


Run Smooth

by Slimslash, without_me



Category: NSYNC, Popslash
Genre: Clueless Boys, Eyeliner, First Time, Joey is the voice of reason, M/M, Madison Square Garden, No Strings Attached, Oblivious, Orlando - Freeform, Tour Bus, drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-05
Updated: 2016-03-05
Packaged: 2018-05-24 19:37:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 46,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6164311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slimslash/pseuds/Slimslash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/without_me/pseuds/without_me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted July 2002. Lance and JC set out to play a joke on the guys and end up getting trapped themselves. First times, eyeliner, getting freaky, miscommunication, emo drama, and lots of sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Jokers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In New York for the Madison Square Garden shows, Lance and JC hatch a plan to trick the other guys.

**Part One: Jokers**

It happened on every tour. Sure, the group was founded on friendship, and that friendship had gotten them through hard times they could never have predicted at the start. But still, no matter how real their affection for each other was, being together _all the time_ was wearing after a while. There inevitably came a point when two buses just weren't big enough for the five of them anymore, and there'd be a blowup. They'd long since learned not to panic over it. They'd switch around, change buses, and that was usually all it took to clear the air. Things would calm down, and then it would be at least a few weeks before they had to switch again. 

This time it was JC who reached the end of his rope, about six weeks into the No Strings Attached tour. He was riding with Justin and Chris, and they were somewhere between Portland and Salt Lake City, one of those long hauls where the miles blur together just like the tiny towns flashing past the bus windows. Justin and Chris had watched every movie, played every video game, and told every dirty joke they knew, and they were getting bored. Chris bored--that was bad enough. Chris and Justin bored _together_ \--that was insufferable. It was like the opposite of a whole equaling more than the sum of its parts. When you added Justin and Chris together, their average age was _ten_. 

Over the course of two days, JC's life on the bus went from unlimited songwriting and naptime to a constant watch against the elaborate, juvenile practical jokes that Justin and Chris dreamed up over the table at the front of the bus. It was beyond annoying. On top of the stress of the tour, his currently off-again relationship with Bobbie, and his body's need for sleep, the last thing he wanted to have to do was defend himself against idiots. Besides, even if he tried, he couldn't be on guard all the time. 

One morning he woke to find his CDs strewn throughout the bus, hidden all over the place like Easter eggs, even in the refrigerator; after his shower, he discovered that his suitcase was stuffed full of dirty socks. _Other people's_ dirty socks. When he finally found his clean underwear (hidden in the game cabinet under the TV), he'd had enough. He yanked on a pair of Justin's jeans and a T-shirt and stomped up to the front of the bus, climbing over Chris and Justin who were rolling on the floor and screaming with laughter. 

"Ow, ow!" Chris gasped between spasms of laughter as JC stepped on his wrist. "We were just playing! No need to resort to physical retaliation!" 

"Yeah, c'mon, Jayce, it was just a joke." Justin grabbed JC's ankle and was dragged along as JC kept moving. "Hey, are those my jeans?" 

JC kicked his foot free of Justin's grasp and stared down at the two of them with his most withering look. "Physical retaliation?" He heard his voice rise to breaking. "You--you _idiots_ deserve worse than that!" He was trembling with anger. "I can't stay on this bus with the two of you another minute." 

"Hey, JC, wait a second," Chris sat up, suddenly concerned, although his face was still red from laughing. "We were just teasing." He pushed himself up from the floor and reached for JC's arm. "Hey, come on, man. We didn't mean any harm. You should learn how to take a joke." 

"Fuck you, Chris. Fuck you both." JC jerked his arm away from Chris and turned so they wouldn't see his hands shaking. " _I_ should learn how to take a joke? _You_ should learn how to respect other people. How about that?" He continued up to the front and asked the driver to radio the other bus. When they pulled off to the side a minute later, JC jumped out barefoot, leaving Chris and Justin muttering behind him that they _were only teasing_ , and _what was his problem?_

When he got to the other bus, Lance was asleep in his bunk, but it wasn't that hard to get Joey to switch. One look at JC's red, angry face seemed to tell him this wasn't a good time to take a stand. 

* * * 

By the time Lance woke up, JC had calmed down a little. He was slouched on the sofa, listening to New Edition through Joey's headphones. He pulled them off as Lance swung his legs out of the bunk and blinked at him sleepily, confusion evident on his face. "Where's Joe?" Lance yawned. 

JC grinned at Lance, apologetic. "We switched. Chris and Justin were--I was having a problem with them." 

Lance waited to hear the rest. He was good at waiting, JC thought. 

"They were just playing stupid tricks. You know. Juvenile practical jokes. I couldn't take it anymore." JC shrugged. It sounded kind of silly now when he said it out loud, but Lance nodded sympathetically. 

"One time I was riding with them and they made me up while I was asleep. Full makeup. I looked like a drag queen." Lance grinned down at the floor. "When we stopped for the night, I went into the hotel like that. I didn't know I was wearing it." 

"Oh, man. What happened?" 

"I looked in the mirror and almost scared myself to death." Lance shook his head. "I was so mad. I'm surprised you don't remember. I went down to Chris's room and chewed them out. After I washed my face, of course. He and Justin were laughing so hard I don't think they even heard me. And I still can't figure out how they did it without waking me up." 

"Did you ever get them back for it?" 

Lance shrugged. "Nah, I'm not much good at thinking of stuff like that. I guess I take things too seriously to think of good jokes." He stood and stretched, balancing through the gentle rocking of the bus, then picked his way over to the couch and sat down on the other end. He was wearing the khaki shorts and green tee that he'd slept in. After a minute, he prompted, "So what did they do to you?" 

JC sighed. "They hid my CDs. Then they hid all my clothes while I was in the shower and put dirty socks in my suitcase." It sounded so stupid. "I got really mad and yelled at them. They couldn't stop laughing." 

"Yeah, they can be real assholes sometimes." JC smiled at that; no matter how many times he heard Lance swear, it always sounded somehow incongruous in his soft drawl. "What did you say to them?" 

"Fuck you. I mean, no. I said _fuck you_ to them, and told them they should have more respect for other people." JC snorted. "Like that'll have any effect on them whatsoever." 

Lance smiled and looked thoughtful. "Maybe you should teach them a lesson." 

JC glanced over and read Lance's look. "You mean pull a joke on them?" 

"Well, yeah. Something like that." 

JC sighed. "See, the problem is I'm not any good at jokes. Like you said, I just take stuff too seriously. As much as I hate to admit it, Chris is right about me. I can't take a joke. And I can't pull them off either. I've never been any good at it, even back in MMC." 

"What if I helped? Maybe together we could come up with something good. And, you know, we might have an edge. Because they won't be expecting it from us." 

"The element of surprise?" 

"Right." Lance grinned, sly and wicked. "What do you think?" 

JC thought about it for a second. He hated being teased, so he didn't like the idea of playing tricks on others. But just once he'd like to get Justin and Chris back for all the stupid things they'd done to him. He'd like to be the one laughing at the end, with them feeling stupid. Just once. Maybe Lance was on to something. 

JC rubbed his hands together. "I think this is going to be fun." 

* * * 

It was surprisingly hard, they discovered, to come up with a joke that seemed right for them. They talked for an hour without thinking of anything that wasn't either impossible (though JC really kind of liked the idea of putting green dye in the other bus's water tank, so Chris would look like an alien when he got out of the shower) or just plain stupid. They wanted something that would truly fool Justin and Chris, something that would leave them both feeling like they'd been had. 

Then Lance had an idea. 

"I know. What about this? You and I pretend to be together." 

"Huh?" 

"You know, like... _together_ , together." 

JC turned to face Lance fully on the couch. "Are you serious?" 

Lance flushed a little. "Serious about pretending, yeah. Why?" 

"Well, okay, um. We're not gay?" 

"Okay--but that makes it even better, don't you think? If we can pull it off, think how totally freaked they'll be." 

JC nodded slowly. "I guess. But how would we do it? Would we really need to...?" 

Lance laughed, a low rumble that started deep in his chest. "No! Of course not. We'd just pretend. You know, just when they were around. I think we could really confuse them. They'd never expect us to try something like this." 

"So we'd what, hold hands? Flirt in front of them?" 

"Sure. Maybe pretend to be sleeping in the same room. You know, stuff like that." 

JC thought it over a little more. "What about Joey?" 

Lance frowned, then spoke slowly. "Well, I guess we should keep it from Joey too, at least at first. It's really a joke on Justin and Chris, but if he knew, he might slip up and give it away by accident." 

JC reluctantly agreed. He didn't want to make Joey feel like a chump, but at the same time, he knew the trick would work better if only he and Lance knew about it. 

* * * 

When they stopped that night, Chris and Justin came off the other bus looking sheepish. 

"Hey man. Sorry about earlier." Chris handed JC his suitcase. "We put your clothes back in here." 

"Yeah, and here are your CDs. See? All safe and sound." Justin was carrying JC's CD case. "They're even alphabetized. Well, sorta." 

Even knowing that he was going to pay them back, JC was touched. "Thanks, guys." 

"Sorry we teased you, Jayce." Justin seemed truly contrite. "We won't do it again." 

"Yeah, not like that, you mean," JC laughed. "You'll think of something else." 

Chris grinned. "It's not our fault you're so much fun to trick, JC. But really, I'm sorry about today. Forgiven?" 

"Sure. Of course." JC stepped forward and hugged Justin, then Chris. He smiled at Lance over Chris's shoulder, and Lance grinned back. 

* * * 

It was easier than JC expected, acting like they were together. When they were with the others, he made sure to sit next to Lance and hang his arm along the back of Lance's chair. Sometimes he'd stroke his fingers over Lance's spiky blond hair or rub his back, not in a really obvious way, but idly, as if he didn't even know he was doing it. They started keeping the same schedule, having breakfast together, checking in with each other in the evenings to see what the plans were for that night. On nights when they weren't performing, they still went to the clubs with the other guys, but they spent most of the evening on the dance floor together, or sitting back at the table talking over their drinks. They always left together, and giggled in the limo about Justin's raised eyebrows and Chris's curious looks. 

JC had thought it would be hard to flirt with someone he wasn't interested in that way, especially a guy, but it turned out Lance was a really good actor and that made it a lot easier. He found that if he smiled at Lance, really smiled at him, Lance would blush and drop his eyes, and smile back, and it all looked very realistic. It was so convincing that JC told Lance he should think about making movies. Lance just smiled some more. 

When they were around Justin and Chris, they made a point of touching and glancing at each other more than usual. JC saw how closely Lance watched him when they were rehearsing or making appearances. It made JC feel kind of funny, but he liked it, too. During the shows he danced a little harder, a little more suggestively, knowing that Lance was behind him paying attention. One day at sound check JC pulled Lance close and whispered into his ear, making him blush, and they both saw Chris checking them out. He and Justin were definitely starting to notice something was up. 

JC stayed on the bus with Lance, so they also had a lot of time when they weren't around the others and they could just kick back and forget about the joke. It turned out they had a lot to talk about. More than JC had realized before. They were both interested in the music industry and how it worked; both of them thought about managing or producing other artists. Lance had some ideas for songs and he asked JC a lot of questions about writing. They talked about their plans for the future, what they wanted from life. Lance seemed to understand about Bobbie, why it wasn't working out with her, and he told JC about Danielle, and although he didn't give a lot of details about why they'd broken up, he seemed kind of sad about it, and JC could sympathize with that. 

JC enjoyed getting to know Lance better, and soon he found that he looked forward to seeing him every day and spending time with him, even when they were just watching videos or sitting at the table, JC writing in his notebook and Lance typing away on his laptop. 

Which is what they were doing on the day JC noticed that Lance had really nice hands. 

* * * 

"Uh, Jayce?" Justin sounded tentative. 

"Yeah?" 

They were in a limo, just the two of them, returning from an appearance they'd made on a local talk show in St. Louis. Joey, Lance, and Chris had left earlier to keep the group's appointment with the stylist, while Justin and JC had stayed behind to record a couple of radio spots. Sometimes it was really convenient having five people to spread between competing engagements. 

"Is there, uh, something going on with you and Lance?" 

JC looked at Justin steadily for a few moments before answering. "Something like what?" 

Justin shifted on the seat. "I dunno, man. Just... it seems like the two of you have been acting kinda strange." 

"Strange like how?" JC bit his lower lip to keep from laughing aloud. 

Justin looked uncomfortable. "I guess like, spending a lot of time together?" 

JC took pity on him. "I guess we have been spending a lot of time together." He smiled down at his hands for a moment before asking, "Does that bother you, J?" 

Justin's eyes grew wide and he shook his head. "No, of course not. It's just I was wondering... if there was something going on... you know." He shrugged, as if unsure how to ask what he really wanted to know. 

JC smiled at him and said softly, "I don't know, Justin. It's not anything I can really explain." He thought he did a pretty good job of acting cool, but as the limo fell silent again he found himself thinking about how Lance had looked in the studio that morning, and wondering whether he really _could_ have explained, if he'd wanted to. 

* * * 

After the first show in Cleveland, they stayed up late in JC's hotel room watching movies on cable and drinking rum and cokes, and then talked for a couple more hours. At 4 AM they were both yawning like maniacs, practically falling asleep leaning against each other on the sofa. JC got up and reached down to help Lance up too. The alcohol had mostly worn off, but both of them were exhausted. As he pulled Lance up by the hand and they swayed there for a second, getting their balance, JC thought of something. "Why don't you stay in here tonight, Lance? There's plenty of room." JC motioned at the big bed, and after a second of hesitation Lance just nodded and let himself be led across the room. 

They were both a little shy as they stripped down to their boxers and got under the covers, but with the lights out things felt comfortable again and Lance went to sleep almost right away. It had been long enough since Europe that sleeping with another guy in the room felt strange at first, but there was something soothing in the sound of Lance's gentle breathing, and JC smiled as he closed his eyes a few minutes later. 

* * * 

JC's 7:30 wakeup call came way too early. Luckily, he found it easy enough to answer the phone, hang up, and go back to sleep. So he and Lance were still fast asleep when Chris started beating on the door at 8:15, yelling about their morning appearances. JC shot to his feet, yelling back to Chris, "Okay, okay! I'm awake! I'm up!" As JC pulled on his clothes, Lance groaned, rolling onto his back and covering his eyes with his arm. 

A second later they heard Chris across the hall, hammering on Lance's door. Lance sat halfway up in the bed, propped on his elbows. His eyes met JC's. This was their chance. Lance pulled himself out of bed, stumbled into his jeans and grabbed his shirt on the way to the door. JC's heart was pounding as Lance stepped out into the hall. 

"Hey, Chris, here I am." Lance's voice was even deeper than usual, husky with sleep and the memory of rum from the night before. JC went to the door behind Lance, his shirt still unbuttoned, and almost cracked up when he saw Chris's face over Lance's bare shoulder. 

"What the hell?" Chris didn't mince words. "What the fuck are you two doing?" 

Lance ducked his head and smiled. "Getting dressed. You know. Can I get by?" When Chris stepped out of the way, Lance slid his card into the door across the hall and slipped into the room. JC shut his own door quickly, before Chris could turn back to him and start up again. Giggling, he leaned against the door for a minute, before crossing to the phone and dialing Lance's extension. 

"Hello?" 

"Man, you are _amazing_. That was so great." 

Lance laughed on the other end of the line, a low chuckle that made JC smile at the telephone. "Yeah, I think we really got him that time." 

"No, you were _perfect_ , Lance." 

"Thanks, Jayce," Lance answered quietly. 

When JC left his room a little while later, Chris was waiting for him beside the elevators, his hands on his hips. 

"Listen, JC, I don't know what the hell is going on with you and Bass, but you better be careful about this. Have you thought this through?" 

JC smiled at Chris. "Don't worry, Chris. We know exactly what we're doing." He got into the elevator, leaving Chris bristling in the hall. 

* * * 

Without any discussion, Lance started sleeping in JC's hotel room every night. Everywhere they went he'd still have his own room, of course, where he kept his clothes and his laptop, but when he got ready to go to sleep he'd pad down the hall, barefoot, and JC would let him in after the first knock. They didn't talk much at night, usually just got in bed and went right to sleep. It was midsummer, so the hotel rooms were frigid with air conditioning; the bed always seemed warmer with Lance in it. 

Sometimes one of the other guys would be in the hall to see Lance going in at night or coming out in the morning, heading back to his room to shower, but nobody ever said anything to JC after that first day. Lance said Joey had talked to him, but that he'd been vague and Joey had left it alone after that. Still, JC knew they were probably talking about it all the time on the other bus. 

JC always had a king-size bed, but still, sometimes they woke up touching. One morning JC woke with his arm around Lance's waist, his face pressed against the smooth, fair skin of Lance's upper arm. He let go gently and shifted back across the bed, then propped himself up on the headboard and watched Lance sleep in the dim light from the window until the wakeup call. JC liked the way Lance looked when he was asleep. 

It worried him, a little. He knew he hadn't thought of Lance as _attractive_ before. On the other hand, well, they _were_ all attractive guys, even without airbrushing. It was probably natural that, after getting to know Lance better, JC'd notice him more. Plus, the whole flirting thing, they were paying a lot of attention to each other, and that was bound to get his subconscious working in different ways. It didn't have to mean anything. The joke would be over soon, anyway, and everything would go back to normal. 

When JC thought about ending it, telling the guys that it was all a trick, he felt a little sad. He wasn't sure why. He and Lance wouldn't have their secret anymore, but they'd still be friends; that didn't have to change. The joke had been going for almost a month, and JC really couldn't think of much more they could add to make it better. He guessed he just liked feeling like he was the one playing the joke this time, instead of the one being fooled, and he didn't want to lose that. 

Also, he was sleeping better than he had in a long time. 

* * * 

When the tour hit New York City at the end of July, it felt like their whole world exploded. "It's Gonna Be Me" was #1 on the singles chart, the second leg of the tour had just been announced, they had promotions and appearances from morning till night, and Thursday night they were doing a live HBO special from Madison Square Garden. They were going on the Today show the morning after that, and Challenge for the Children was scheduled for that Saturday. It was like something in the cosmos had shifted, and suddenly they were _there_ , real superstars. 

That Monday they were supposed to get an early night so they could be up for a morning appearance, so JC and Lance were back at the hotel by midnight. Dre had waved Lonnie over in the lobby, but nobody looked worried, so when an empty elevator arrived, Lance headed for it, and JC followed. They stumbled in, laughing and falling against each other, only a little drunk but punchy with fatigue and anticipation. JC put his cardkey in and pushed the button for the 31st floor, then leaned back against the wall. 

Lance was still chuckling at something JC had said, something that surely wasn't all _that_ funny, and suddenly it was like JC was seeing him for the first time. He looked good. Really good. He was relaxed and laughing, and his eyes and his smile looked so pretty that JC just leaned over without thinking, hooked an elbow around the back of Lance's neck, and pulled him in for a kiss. 

It felt so natural, after all the time they'd been spending together, all the little touches here and there, the nights spent sleeping side by side, but the charge that went through JC when his lips touched Lance's was completely unexpected. It buzzed through his body, tingling from his scalp down to the soles of his feet, buckling his knees, leaving him humming all over. He gasped, or maybe they both did, and then it was like all the air had been sucked out of the elevator. A second later Lance pushed him up against the wall with a deep growl, and kissed him back like he really meant it. 

They kissed all the way up to their floor, Lance's hands at JC's waist, holding him tight against the wall, one thigh grinding against the ache between JC's legs. JC moaned, wrapping his arm tighter around Lance's neck and pressing his other hand into the small of Lance's back to pull him closer. Lance kissed hard, open-mouthed, like he was starving and nothing but JC would do, and JC felt himself falling, slipping, sliding down; but no, he was still standing when the elevator began to slow. 

As the doors slid open, JC heard Justin's voice in the hall, and he knew Lance heard it too by the way he jumped away, wide-eyed and blushing, his mouth still wet. Lance turned and rushed out of the elevator, toward his room, dodging Joey and Justin, who were coming down the hall. JC watched Lance disappear into his room, then made his own way down the hall on shaky legs. He noticed the startled looks Justin and Joey were exchanging, but waved them away when they tried to speak to him. 

* * * 

_What the hell?_ JC paced back and forth across his hotel room, trying to figure out what had happened in the elevator. Why had he kissed Lance? It was just an impulse, he hadn't even thought about doing it but suddenly he was... doing it. He was doing it, and he hadn't wanted it ever to end. He didn't think he was gay--at least, he'd never thought so before--but he'd sure liked kissing Lance, and if he was being honest with himself, he had to admit he wanted to do it again. 

But what about Lance? He'd kissed JC back with so much passion and... well, _need_ , that was what it felt like. Lance, who was so self-contained and quiet, who seemed to have such careful control over his feelings. JC had come to appreciate the man beneath that smooth exterior over the last several weeks, but he had never guessed that Lance had such fire inside him. Or that he would be such a good kisser. 

He couldn't figure this out by himself. He needed to talk to Lance. Crossing the hall, he knocked softly at Lance's door, but got no answer. He knocked again and waited, but after a minute or two he went back to his own room. Lance must just have been in the shower. At least, JC hoped that was why he wasn't answering. 

* * * 

A little while later, JC heard a knock on his door and bounded over to let Lance in. Only it wasn't Lance. 

"Oh, hey, what's up, Joe?" JC tried not to sound disappointed, but he looked out the door over Joey's shoulder to make sure Lance wasn't out there in the hallway somewhere. 

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Joey seemed serious. 

"Sure," JC shrugged. "Come on in." He shut the door behind Joey, with one more glance out into the empty hall. 

Joey sat down on the end of the bed and looked up at JC. "I don't really know how to say this without coming right out and saying it, C." 

JC laughed nervously. "Okay, so say it, I guess." 

Joey took a deep breath. "I know you and Lance are sleeping together. I don't know what exactly is going on, if this is a relationship or just a hookup or whatever, but I just wanted to say that you better not hurt him." 

JC was stunned. "No, Joey, it's not like that..." 

"It's okay," Joey interrupted him, "I don't need to know the details. I just, I saw him come out of the elevator tonight and he--well, he didn't look right. And I don't know what the problem was, but I wanted to tell you to be careful. Or else you're gonna have to deal with me." Joey's eyes narrowed. JC took a step backwards. Joey really looked serious. 

JC felt awful. They should have told Joey from the beginning. They should never have let him get worried like this. And now it had been going on for weeks, and that just made it worse. 

"Joey, it's not what you're thinking. Really." JC tried to smile, to reassure himself as much as Joey. "It's just that Lance and I, well, you know how Chris and Justin are always playing stupid tricks on us? Um. A while back we decided to play a trick on them, instead. To get them back." 

Joey frowned. "What the hell are you talking about?" 

JC knew he looked guilty. But it had been Lance's idea not to tell Joey. "Well, we've been, um, pretending to be together. Just pretending. To play a joke on Chris and Justin. We really wanted to tell you before, but..." JC trailed off at the look on Joey's face. 

"A joke? A fucking _joke_?" Joey jumped up, glaring. He was madder than JC had ever seen him before. Even during the lawsuit, Joey had just gone quiet. Not-- _dangerous_ like this. "I can't believe you would do something like this to Lance!" 

"To _Lance_?" That didn't make any sense. "What are you talking about? The joke's on Chris and Justin! I mean, like I said, I'm sorry we didn't tell you, but--" 

Joey shook his head in disgust and disbelief. "You've had some stupid ideas in your time, Chasez, but I swear to God, this is the worst." 

"Joey, it was _Lance's_ idea. Okay? His idea, not mine! So what's the big deal?" 

Joey looked at him as if he couldn't believe JC could be so stupid. "What's the big deal? The big deal is that Lance is in love with you." 

JC blinked, waiting for the punch line. After a moment he spoke carefully. "What did you say?" 

"You heard me." 

JC shook his head. "There's no way that's true." 

Joey crossed his arms and set his jaw. "I'm telling you, it's the truth." 

"Wait, you're saying Lance _told you_ he was in love with me?" 

"He didn't have to tell me. I can see the way he looks at you." 

"Joey, I promise, he's just pretending. That's all part of the joke." 

"Have you ever _seen_ Lance act, JC?" 

JC looked at him, trying to reconcile what Joey was saying with what he'd been seeing for the past month. Lance's shy smiles, his lowered eyes, his blushes. 

The sound he'd made when JC had kissed him. 

JC opened his mouth, but he couldn't come up with any words. He knew his confusion had to be written all over his face. 

Finally Joey sighed, seeming to give a little. "It's no joke. I spent a lot of time on that bus with him before we switched. He talked about you all the time. I'm not, like, Mr. Perceptive or anything, but even I could see it. I can't believe you didn't already know it yourself." 

"But he's not even gay." JC was desperate. 

Joey took a breath as if he was going to say something, but then he just shrugged. 

"But then why would he do this? Why would he have suggested this joke? It's not like we're really together or anything..." JC trailed off, his lips burning with the memory of that kiss. 

Joey looked at him, a long look, and JC wondered exactly what he and Lance had looked like when they got off the elevator. Finally Joey shrugged again. "You'd better ask him yourself." 

* * * 

It was hard to sleep alone that night. In just three weeks, JC had gotten used to Lance's weight on the other side of the bed, his gentle breathing and the deep rumble of his sighs. Now the bed was too quiet, and too cold. And JC's mind wouldn't stop replaying the quiet certainty in Joey's voice. _It's no joke._

* * * 

Lance was late to breakfast the next morning. By the time he showed up, the others were nearly finished. "Guys, JC and I have something to tell you." Lance smiled nervously as he stood beside JC's chair at the breakfast table, the other four looking up at him. JC could see the tension in his face. 

"We know you've all noticed that things have changed between us, and we just wanted to explain. We're both just so happy things have turned out like this." Chris and Justin exchanged smug looks. Across the table, Joey glowered at JC. All JC could think was that Lance's acting wasn't as persuasive as usual this morning. 

JC couldn't take his eyes off Lance. He wasn't sure whether Lance was going to say they were together, or they weren't. Either way, he wanted to stop time, just for a minute, and figure out why he was feeling so miserable about this. 

Lance took a deep breath and leaned forward a little, splaying his long fingers out on the tabletop. He spoke across the table, directly to Chris and Justin. "Anyway, we really wanted the two of you to be the first to know..." he paused, "that we've been yanking your chains since the middle of June. We're not sleeping together, you idiots. We were just playing a joke on you. Getting you back for all the stupid shit you've done to us for the past five years." He stood up straight and crossed his arms. 

Justin's mouth fell open. Chris's lips grew tight. The entire table was silent for a second. Justin pointed at Lance, then at JC, then back at Lance again. Then he started to laugh. "Are you serious? Are you fucking serious? That's--we thought--oh my God!" He gave up on trying to talk, and just leaned back in his chair, laughing, until Chris turned and smacked him in the side of the head. "Hey!" 

"Shut up, Justin, it's not funny." Chris was pissed. 

Justin nursed his curls back into shape. "Yes it is! What do you mean it's not funny? They totally had us going!" 

Chris frowned at Lance and JC. "It's not funny, guys. This is _so_ not funny." 

JC forced himself to smile at Chris. Lance shouldn't have to deal with this alone. "What's wrong? Didn't we owe you one after all those years of practical jokes? You know you deserved it." 

Chris spluttered at him. "But we never did anything like _that!_ This has been going on for what, a month? More than that. You just, you should have a little more respect for us than that!" 

"Or maybe you just need to learn how to take a joke, Chris," JC answered, sticking his chin out. He felt Lance standing beside his chair, a presence that comforted and disturbed him at the same time. 

Chris looked taken aback. Justin kept snorting with laughter. Joey stood up, dropped his napkin on the table and walked away with a disgusted shrug. 

JC felt empty inside. He wanted to say something, say anything. 

Lance wouldn't look him in the eye. 

"Okay, maybe we did deserve it a little," Chris said grudgingly. "But only a little. It was still a stupid thing to do." 

_You have no idea._

* * * 

They had a long day of interviews and appearances scheduled. JC noticed how careful Lance was not to sit next to him at the press conferences, not to stand beside him during the photo shoots, although he acted normal in every other way. 

* * * 

That night, the others went out to hit the clubs. JC stayed behind, pleading the next day's early appearance at FAO Schwartz, and was relieved when Justin complained that JC and Lance were both getting so boring. Lance was staying in too. 

After they left, JC slipped out of his room and knocked on Lance's door. "Open up, Bass. I know you're in there." He knocked again and added, "I'm not leaving, so you better let me in. I mean it." 

He was about to really start pounding when he heard a soft click and the door swung open. Lance was already walking back into the room, so JC closed the door softly behind him and followed Lance, sitting down beside him on the edge of the bed. An open bottle of Jack Daniels stood on the nightstand, a glass of melting ice beside it. 

"Lance, we have to talk. You've been avoiding me all day." 

Lance didn't look at him, but he answered. "Okay. So let's talk." His voice sounded strained. 

JC didn't know where to start. Why had Lance kissed him back last night, and why had he run away? Was Joey right about how Lance felt? Was Lance gay? JC couldn't think of a good way to ask any of those questions. 

He'd start with something safer. "Why'd you tell Justin and Chris about the joke this morning?" 

Lance shrugged slightly. "It was getting old, JC. I just couldn't do it anymore." 

"But last night..." 

"Listen, I just woke up this morning and knew we had to end it." Lance's voice was a little too loud, and his eyes flashed at JC. He continued, more softly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you first. You got them good, you should be happy. I was just... it had started to feel like the joke was on me instead of them." 

JC's pulse quickened. "What do you mean?" 

Lance looked down at his hands, fingers laced together on his lap. "Nothing, JC. Like I said, I just couldn't fake it anymore." 

"No, what did you mean, you felt like the joke was on you?" JC reached across and touched Lance's shoulder, trying to turn him so they were face to face. Lance pulled away and closed his eyes. 

"I'm sorry. I can't help it. I thought it would be okay. I thought--I would be okay. But I'm..." he squeezed his eyes shut tighter and shook his head. 

"What, Lance?" 

Lance took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His eyes were still closed. "JC, I've wanted to do those things for a long time. Spend time with you. Touch you. But I knew you didn't feel that way about me." 

"Lance..." JC began to speak, but just didn't know what to say. He knew he shouldn't be shocked by what Lance was saying--Joey had told him as much the night before--but hearing it from Lance himself was different. More real. 

After a moment, Lance continued. "This trick--it was a stupid idea, I know that now. I never should have done it. But I..." JC's throat tightened as he realized Lance was close to tears. "I guess I thought it would be better than nothing. I could be close to you and you wouldn't mind. Close enough to touch you." Lance turned his head away and spoke so quietly that JC could hardly hear. "But it was so hard. To be so close. And to know that you would never, could never want me the way I want you." 

_This can't be happening._

Everything about Lance radiated pain. His voice, his hunched posture, the muscle twitching in his jaw. It hurt JC to see him like this. By instinct, JC reached out and put his arm around Lance, patting his shoulder. 

Lance crossed his arms tightly over his chest and shuddered, moving away from JC's hand. _Don't touch me_ , his body seemed to say. JC bit his lip and dropped his hand back into his lap, helpless. He'd always been able to comfort Lance. Always. Ever since they first started out, back when Lance was sixteen and homesick. 

After another minute, Lance spoke again, and his voice was harsh. "You could leave now, you know." 

JC shook his head silently. _No._ He still didn't know what to say, or even what to think, but he couldn't leave his friend like this. He cleared his throat. 

"But Lance, you..." he paused, searching for the right words, finally settling on the most obvious. "You're not gay." Lance didn't move. Finally, JC whispered, "Are you?" 

Lance sighed and turned to face him. He looked directly at JC, an unspoken challenge in his eyes. 

JC stared back, then finally answered his own question. "You are." 

"Is it really that hard to believe, JC?" Lance sounded tired. Worn. 

"No, it's just..." JC frowned. "I'm a little surprised. We've been friends for five years. Why didn't you tell me before now?" 

Lance dragged his fingers through his hair and frowned. "I didn't know--for sure--until, um, a year or so ago? Maybe I could've told you. But it's not easy. Even without the whole other thing, it was hard. I tried a bunch of times. I could never seem to say it." 

_The whole other thing. The thing about wanting me._ JC couldn't think about that part of it yet. 

"Do your parents know?" 

Lance glanced up. "My mom does." He frowned. "Not many people really know. Danielle. I kind of had to tell her. And Joey." 

Of course Joey knew. All tour he'd been shooting JC questioning looks, like he was trying to figure something out. And last night, warning JC not to hurt Lance. Of course he knew. 

JC felt strangely hurt that Lance had managed to tell Joey, but not him. 

Lance sighed. "Now that you know, I want to say I'm sorry. I shouldn't have--I never should've suggested that stupid trick. Especially without telling you I was gay. I don't blame you if you're angry." 

JC blinked. Angry? No. Confused, definitely. He turned the facts over in his head, trying to piece them together so they made sense. Lance was gay. Lance had been sleeping in JC's bed for a month, and Lance was gay. Lance _wanted_ him, and he had been sleeping in JC's bed, and nothing had happened. Well, nothing had happened until last night, and when it _had_ happened, JC had been the one to kiss Lance. 

_He had kissed Lance._ And as he remembered it for the thousandth time that day, the tightening in his stomach told him that he still wanted to do it again. 

He looked at Lance's profile, the little frown, the worry lines, the way his lashes dropped down over his eyes. JC sighed, reached over, and wrapped his fingers around Lance's wrist. When Lance tried to pull away again, JC held on tighter and pulled Lance's arm toward him a little. 

"Lance, no, I'm not. I mean, I'm not angry." Lance glanced over at him for an instant, then down again, looking at the place where JC's hand held his wrist. "I'm not mad. But I'm, you know, confused." 

Lance's laugh sounded hollow. "Yeah. Me too." 

JC rubbed the pad of his thumb lightly against Lance's forearm. "I mean... what about last night? If you wanted that," JC swallowed hard, embarrassed, "wanted _me_ , why did you run away?" 

Lance shook his head. "I _didn't_ want that." 

JC knew he should be relieved, but he wasn't. 

"I mean, no, I _did_ , but not like that," Lance went on. "When you kissed me in the elevator, oh God, I wanted you so bad." He rubbed his free hand across his eyes. "That was when I knew I couldn't keep on with this. I couldn't keep tricking you, being around you and not telling you I was gay. I felt like I was... using you or something." 

"Using me?" 

Lance frowned. "Um. Yeah. Using you to, you know, get off." The tips of his ears turned pink. 

JC's breath sounded overloud in his ears, and he held himself very still. His mouth went dry as he tried very hard not to imagine _anything_ about that. Lance's face. Lance's hands. Lance's voice, crying out. 

_Oh, yes. Please, yes._ He could feel his own skin flush. 

Finally Lance glanced up at JC's stunned face, and sighed. "Okay, that was, like, really embarrassing. And I'm sorry if it's too much information or whatever." He moved as if to pull his arm from JC's grasp. 

JC tightened his fingers on Lance's wrist. "Lance." He waited until Lance looked up at him again. "What about now?" he breathed. They weren't the words he'd intended to say. At least he didn't think they were. He couldn't be sure, though. He didn't think he was sure about anything--except that Lance's skin felt right under his fingers. And that he wanted to feel... taste... Lance's mouth again. 

Lance looked confused, brows pulled close together. "Now?" 

"You said..." JC licked his dry lips, "you said you didn't stay last night because I didn't know. Because you hadn't told me you were gay." He stared at Lance, willing him to understand. 

Lance stared back. 

"Now..." JC tried to keep his voice even, "you've told me." 

Lance's eyebrows lifted. "So..." 

_Please. Make this a little easier._ But with or without Lance's help, he knew he had to keep going. If he didn't do it now... 

"So..." JC swayed forward, almost imperceptibly. "What about now?" 

He watched, breathless, as the flicker of disbelief in Lance's eyes grew slowly into comprehension and then, in one blink, blazed into a green flame of desire. 

JC didn't know who closed the gap between them, but suddenly he was holding Lance by the waist, and Lance was kissing him, and the whole room seemed to be spinning out of control. _Lance. Kissing._ Warm, firm lips pressed against his, and it was hard for JC to remember to breathe. 

Lance spread his hands out flat on JC's chest, teasing JC's mouth with his lips while he slid his palms higher. Even through his T-shirt, JC could feel the heat from Lance's fingers as they moved slowly up his chest. Finally, Lance curved one hand around the side of JC's neck and slid the other up to cup the back of his head. Then he tilted JC's head a little to the side, and ran the tip of his tongue lightly over JC's lips. 

JC felt his heart pounding in his throat as he opened his mouth under Lance's, and he heard himself moan when Lance's tongue slipped between his lips. 

Heat. 

Lance's breath was hot; JC's own face was hot; his fingers burned where they were touching bare skin just above the waistband of Lance's sweatpants, and Lance's tongue was hot and slick, the faint burn of whiskey spiraling into JC's lungs as he gasped for air. 

_Not gay, not gay_ , he thought vaguely--but his skin was aching, not just his cock but his whole body. They'd just started kissing, but suddenly it was like the past month had been one long tease, and there wasn't space in his mind for things like labels. There was only Lance, groaning softly as JC's hands stroked the softsmoothwarm skin of his back. Lance, bringing his teeth together on JC's lower lip, worrying it not-quite-roughly before they plunged into another kiss, and another, and another. 

Neither of them had a heavy beard, but every so often their cheeks would brush just so and the friction was startling, unfamiliar. JC kept expecting it to feel strange, wrong, but the only thing that went through his mind was _God, that's hot_ , and _moremoremore_. He traced Lance's lips with his tongue, sucking and nipping, wondering how he'd possibly waited so long to do this. 

Someone was growling--he wasn't sure who--and he needed... needed... JC pushed, urged, tilted, and then they were horizontal, the hotel bedspread rustling as they shifted, bodies tangling as they tried to touch, rub, _press_. So good, so good. Lance's hair was soft under his fingers, and his skin smelled spicy. JC wanted to drink him in. Swallow him whole. 

Another shift of weight, and Lance was on top of him, heavier than JC was used to, and oh God, hard--JC's hips thrust instinctively, up, grinding against that hardness that was so different from a woman's welcoming curves, but so... fucking... hot. Sparks danced against his eyelids and he gasped, " _Lance_ ," his fingers digging into firm flesh. 

Lance stilled a second, and JC almost sobbed, but then there was a low growl, not quite a word, and with a movement that might have been negation, Lance bent his head, his lips sliding down JC's throat and lower, hot moist breath through the cotton of his shirt, and then--God--teeth, teeth and tongue through the fabric, finding the sensitive skin of his nipple. 

"Christ--" JC bucked, more sparks shooting from his chest to the base of his spine. Lance was lower on the bed now, and JC almost wanted to mourn the loss of another erection to thrust against. Only with Lance's mouth on him, his brain wasn't working well enough to complain about anything. So he moaned, rocking upwards into the firm muscle of Lance's stomach, and twisted and shuddered as Lance's mouth drew lightning up his body. 

So hot. So sweet. 

JC closed his eyes, panting, arching up against Lance's mouth. Unconsciously he reached out to hold Lance close, and ended up with his hands on strong, solid shoulders. JC held on tightly, digging his fingers into the tensed muscles, balling up the soft fabric of the T-shirt in his fists. Lance bit down harder in response. JC groaned, thrusting upwards, and felt Lance shiver against him. 

Suddenly JC wanted more, needed to touch Lance's skin, see him, feel him. JC ran his hands down Lance's back and tugged the back of the T-shirt up, shifting his hips beneath Lance so he could pull it free. Lance propped himself up a little and helped, yanking it over his head and tossing it aside. A second later, JC was out of his shirt, too. 

When they were both stripped to the waist, Lance sat up, straddling JC's hips, his fingers stroking JC's stomach just above the waistband of his jeans. JC had seen Lance's naked chest a thousand times, surely, but somehow he had never before noticed the contrast between the pale skin and the light brown nipples, or the way Lance had grown and filled out, how the muscles in his chest and arms provided definition that JC was sure hadn't been there even six months ago. 

Lance looked down at JC, bright-eyed, flushed. His fingers danced nervously across JC's tight stomach. "I know I'm not..." he began huskily, then cleared his throat and started over. "Is this what... you know, what you want?" 

JC reached down and caught Lance's hands in his. Pulling Lance slowly down on top of him, he whispered, "You. I want you." Then he gasped at the sensation of Lance's skin against his own, chest to chest, belly to belly. JC wrapped his arms around Lance and pulled him close for a kiss, his hands roaming over Lance's smooth back as he pushed his tongue up into Lance's mouth and was met with wet, welcoming heat. 

It was different, so different from being with a woman, this feeling of hard chests pressing together, the distinct hardness straining against his own erection through the fabric of their pants. And it was different, too, how Lance pressed him down into the bed, how he held JC's head in his hands and kissed him deeply, thoroughly, long and hard, then sucked JC's tongue back into his mouth for a moment before he finally pulled back and stopped to breathe. 

Different. But not wrong. _Not wrong._

Lance rested his forehead against JC's shoulder, panting hot breath on his skin. JC was panting, too. 

"God, Lance," JC whispered into Lance's hair. "You're so fucking _hot_." 

Lance laughed softly, the low rumble rocking both their bodies. He looked up at JC and shook his head. "Don't--" he said, "Please, if I'm dreamin', don't wake me up, okay?" His eyes were wide, black pupils only serving to heighten the pale green around them, and the expression on his face was some kind of ecstatic gratitude that would have been embarrassing if JC hadn't felt pretty much the same himself. As it was, he just held Lance tighter, carding his fingers through soft prickles of hair and fitting their mouths together in another kiss. 

_I could do this forever._ JC didn't know how he could have been in the group so long--basically living with Lance for years--and never have done this before. The friction of their skin, now slicking slightly with sweat, was so sweet he thought he might come in his pants. He arched his hips up again, catching Lance's moan in his mouth, and the pulse hammering in his throat was singing, "I love you, I love you," inside his head. And some small part of him thought he should be worried about that, but the rest was too busy feeling the electricity run from Lance through him and back again to bother with annoying things like worry. 

JC let his lips wander from Lance's, just a little ways, just enough to kiss down his jaw, tongue his way down Lance's throat. Lance groaned, tilting his head to let JC continue, and JC brought his teeth together on the smooth notch of Lance's collarbone. "Jesus," Lance breathed. "God, JC-- _please_ \--" He swallowed, and it sounded painful. "Careful," he gritted out, "Appearance--morning--" 

JC winced, but nodded, soothing the reddened skin with his tongue. He didn't want to think about tomorrow, about the early wake-up call they'd be getting, about the cameras they'd both have to face. Not that their makeup artists hadn't had to cover love bites before. _But not beard burn_ , he thought, and then, _Not on me, at least._

"Sorry," he whispered, bringing a hand up to caress Lance's mouth, trace the curves of his lips. "You're just so... _fucking_..." 

Lance grinned. "Hot?" he finished. He still didn't look like he really believed it. 

"Yeah," JC replied, still stroking Lance's face. "Lance... you're amazing. I just... wanna do this--kiss you--all night long." 

Lance raised an eyebrow at him. "Just this?" His hips rocked a little, and the sparks rose under JC's skin again. 

"Um..." No. Not just this. But he didn't know. It was all so good, but--what if-- 

He didn't know what came next. Or, he did know, but he didn't know how, or he didn't know how he'd _feel_ , or-- 

He looked up at Lance. At one of the people he trusted most on the planet. "Show me?" he asked. His heart was pounding, but this was _Lance_ , it would be okay, it _had_ to be... 

Lance blinked, then held JC's gaze for a moment, searching his face as if looking for an answer to some question that hadn't been asked yet. As the moment lengthened, JC's mind raced, _had he said the wrong thing_? and he didn't even realize he'd been holding his breath until Lance nodded, then shifted, moving over to lie down beside him on the bed. 

"Okay," Lance whispered, wrapping his arm tightly around JC's waist and leaning in to kiss him again. JC twisted onto his side so they were face to face, sliding his arm around Lance's neck. Soon their kisses grew hotter and hungrier, and JC hooked one ankle behind Lance's legs, pulling him close until their bodies were as tangled as their tongues. JC groaned at the delicious pressure of Lance's thigh against his aching cock. It was good, but it wasn't enough, not nearly enough. JC thrust his hips forward a little, rubbing, grinding. 

Lance moaned as JC pushed forward, and lodged his thigh tighter against JC's shifting hips. Then he traced his fingers lightly over the curve of JC's waist, back to front, his smooth fingertips leaving a trail of heat, and JC felt himself shiver at the teasing touch. _Down, just a little farther down..._ "Please," he moaned against Lance's lips, then pulled away from the kiss enough to see Lance's face, and panted it out again. "Please, Lance." 

Lance swallowed hard and slid his hand slowly down JC's stomach, brushing his knuckles gently against the skin just below JC's navel. Moving lower, he fumbled for a second with the button of JC's jeans, then tugged the zipper down. JC's eyes drifted closed and he rolled onto his back as Lance reached inside, pushed down the waistband of his boxers, and wrapped his fingers around JC's erection. 

_Oh... God..._ JC convulsed at Lance's touch. Had he _ever_ been this hard before? His hips lifted and he moaned as Lance tightened his grip, not even stroking yet but oh, the pressure was just _maddening_ , so good, but still not _enough..._

He wanted... he needed... he couldn't think, his brain was blank. JC bit his lower lip and twisted up into Lance's hand. Then he felt Lance shifting, leaning over him, his breath hot on JC's face before he caught JC's mouth in another scorching kiss. Their tongues met and slipped against each other, _so sexy_ , and it was hard for JC to tell where his mouth ended and Lance's began. 

JC nudged his hips upward, whimpering into Lance's mouth as he felt those fingers finally begin to move. Lance pulled slowly up the length of JC's cock, tracing over the slick head with his fingers, just as his tongue traced the inside of JC's mouth. Sparks exploded behind JC's eyes as Lance touched him, kissed him, and he reached up and grabbed Lance's arms as if to keep from drowning. 

Lance gasped, froze, then pulled away, releasing JC's cock as if he'd been burnt. "I'm sorry," he began, "I thought--you said--" 

JC wanted to howl. "No--Lance--I didn't mean--" He grabbed for Lance's hand, tugging it back where he wanted it. "Sorry--sorry, it's just--so good--" After a moment's hesitation, Lance squeezed him gently, then started stroking again. "God--" JC shuddered. " _Yes._ Lance, I--" He looked into those wide green eyes, bit his lip, swallowed. "My hands, I need to do something--can I, would it be all right if I... touched you?" 

Lance visibly relaxed, and his smile lit up his face. "Darlin'," he said, his accent evident, "you can do anything you want." 

Lance's fingers were rapidly destroying JC's ability to think, much less speak, so he just reached out, a little hesitant, and pressed one palm to Lance's chest. Lance took a breath, and JC let his fingers slide to the side, brush over a flat nipple. Lance arched, a body roll that would have made Wade proud, and JC couldn't help but grin. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." JC pushed his hips up into Lance's hand, his own fingers exploring further down, tracing the planes of Lance's chest, his flat stomach, the silky hair that started below his navel. Strange, to be touching another man like this. And at the same time totally familiar, a body like his own. 

Then Lance's palm cupped the head of JC's cock, sweet slick pressure, and JC gasped, shivering. He felt himself clutching the fabric of Lance's sweat pants, fingers knotted in the soft cotton. "God--Lance--" He blinked, tried to focus. "I'm, um--" He giggled awkwardly. "I think--I think I'm gonna make a mess here pretty soon..." 

"No." Lance stilled, looking up into JC's startled face. "JC, wait," he whispered urgently, letting go of JC's erection. JC groaned, and his brain tried to process... _Wait? How...?_

Suddenly Lance was kneeling on the bed, pushing JC's jeans and boxers down over his thighs, lifting one leg, then the other to free him of the confining denim. In seconds, JC was naked, and Lance was back lying next to him, kissing him again. One hand trailed down JC's ribs, his waist, coming to a halt on his hip. JC whimpered, twisting his hips and pushing Lance's hand towards his almost painfully hard cock. 

Lance took hold of him again, gently, and JC sighed in relief. Then Lance's breath tickled JC's ear as he whispered, "I just... JC, I wanna make this good for you. Make you feel good." 

JC laughed weakly, a mildly hysterical laugh that sounded faraway to his own ears. "Lance... I do feel... you make me feel. Already." Lance smiled at him, then lowered his head to lick JC's nipple. JC gasped. 

"Good." Lance looked up again. "But... I want... it's just..." and then he shook his head, and leaned back down, and suddenly JC was glad that Lance wasn't talking anymore, first of all because JC didn't think he could have listened, because his _brain_ had stopped working, and second of all, because talking would have meant Lance would have to stop what he was doing with his _tongue_. 

JC tensed and writhed as Lance licked a leisurely path down his chest and over his stomach. Lance's hand stayed on JC's cock, unmoving, providing just enough pressure to take the edge off, but not enough for JC to push up against, to grind on like he needed to. The loose grip was a delicious torment, the tongue caressing his body an unbearable tease. 

At last, Lance ended the slow torture with a tongue kiss to JC's navel. JC moaned, his head tossed back against the pillow, his hands digging into the bedspread by his hips. " _Lance_... oh, God, Lance..." 

"Mmm-hmm?" Lance hummed against JC's belly, and JC felt it through his whole body. Oh, God. _God._ What was it going to feel like when... 

And then he _knew_ , because Lance turned his head and ran his tongue over the head of JC's throbbing dick, then sucked it into his mouth with a gentle, deep _Mmmm_ that set off fireworks inside JC's head, an explosion of sparks that rivaled anything they'd ever had onstage. 

The blood in JC's ears thrummed _Lance Lance Lance_ and his hands came up to clutch at Lance's head. 

It couldn't be this good. 

It wasn't like he'd never had sex before. He wasn't some horny teenager whose girlfriend blushed if he even hinted that she might kiss him "down there." He'd had his dick sucked by women on several _continents_ , and he'd thought most of them were damn good at it. But. _Lance_. 

He felt soft strands cutting into his fingers, and realized he had his hands knotted in Lance's hair. "Shit--sorry--" He let go hastily, petting where he was sure he'd been inflicting pain. "God, La-- _God--_ " 

A muffled chuckle sent shock waves up his spine, and then Lance raised his head and JC nearly cried out. "Hush," Lance soothed. "Relax. I'm not made of glass." He reached for JC's hand, guided it back to his head. "'s okay," he repeated, patting JC's fingers reassuringly. "I like knowing you like it." The look on his face as he spoke was almost enough to send JC over the edge, and the low roughness of his tone didn't exactly hurt either. But before JC had time to focus on whether he really _could_ come just from Lance looking at him, Lance's mouth was on him again and the question vanished like a bubble popping in the sunshine. 

He didn't know what made it so different. But it was. Lance's mouth was hot, eager, _greedy_. JC moaned, shifting on the bed, letting the sensation fill him again. He stroked his fingers through Lance's hair, traced the delicate curves of his ears, still not really believing that this was real, this was Lance, Lance was, Lance and he were-- 

Lance's fingers were drawing soft patterns on JC's thighs, alternately soothing and massaging, then dropping lower to cup his balls, and JC spread his legs instinctively to give him better access. "Heaven," he whispered, and he felt Lance's lips curve in a smile. 

"Mmm," came the answer, and JC shivered with pleasure. Lance was moving on him, a few smooth strokes at a time, then pulling back to lick and suck the sensitive crown before taking him deep again. It was almost too much, a hundred times, and yet Lance seemed to know just when to shift, to ease up, so the building climax never quite spilled over. It was agonizing, maddening, and he never wanted it to end. 

"So good, so good, amazing, beautiful--" He knew he was babbling, but he couldn't spare any energy to care. If Lance wanted to tease him about it later, he'd cope. Being teased by Lance wouldn't be so bad. And even if it was, this was worth it. 

Judging from the encouraging noises Lance was making, he didn't seem to mind JC's incoherence. JC gasped again and again as he felt Lance humming in the back of his throat, the deep tone vibrating gently against the head of his cock every time Lance took him all the way in. JC writhed on the bedspread, hanging onto Lance's head with both hands. "Lance, I'm gonna... I can't..." 

Rather than backing off at JC's warning, Lance increased his efforts, speeding up, finally giving JC the pressure and friction he needed. JC cried out as he felt Lance's mouth tighten around him, sucking hard. Then, just when JC thought he _couldn't_ get any deeper, Lance's nose nudged the hair at the base of JC's cock. Without thinking about it or even meaning to, JC bucked upwards into Lance's mouth, holding the blond head steady as he pumped his hips, arching off the bed. 

JC came hard, yelling Lance's name as the orgasm ripped through his body and out, into the heat of Lance's mouth. Lance hung onto JC's jerking hips, sticking with him, sucking, swallowing hard as JC spasmed and shook. Finally, the thrusts gave way to aftershocks and JC dropped back to the bed, panting. 

After a few moments, Lance pulled off slowly, sucking gently now, then lapping with his tongue as he lifted his head. JC tried to focus, tried to see Lance's face in the light from the bedside lamp, but somehow his eyes weren't working right. Or maybe it was his brain. Instead, he moved his hands to Lance's shoulders, pulling, coaxing him back up the bed without words. 

Lance crawled up the bed and crashed onto his side, sharing JC's pillow. Eyes closed, he lay panting, his lips rubbed red, his hair standing up in the places where JC had been hanging on. JC reached over clumsily and tried to smooth Lance's hair, a little embarrassed at what he'd done. "Sorry..." he began, his voice breathy and unsteady. Then Lance opened his eyes, and whatever JC had been planning to say slipped silently from his mind, because what Lance wanted was written so plainly on his face. 

JC swallowed hard and glanced down, suddenly shy, and found himself staring at the heavy bulge pushing up against the waistband of Lance's loose sweatpants. JC forced himself to breathe. 

His body still wasn't responding to his commands, muscles gone lax and unwieldy, but he managed to tilt up on his side, turning toward Lance, letting his fingers slip from Lance's hair to stroke down the plane of his cheek. JC tried to smile, his mouth feeling as out-of-control as the rest of him. "Wow," he managed, and felt himself blush at the stupid word. 

Lance's swollen lips curved. "Yeah?" he drawled, satisfaction mingling with the desire that still dominated his expression. 

"Oh, yeah," JC replied, touching his thumb to Lance's mouth where it skidded slightly over slick moisture. He swallowed. _Mine_ , he thought, and he was leaning forward without thinking, his own tongue slipping out to lick, to taste... 

Lance growled, reaching for him, and strong arms were pulling him close, Lance kissing him hungrily, his mouth salty and slightly bitter. The taste wasn't entirely pleasant, but what it represented more than made up for it. JC twisted his fingers in Lance's hair again and kissed him back, his pulse quickening as Lance's touch sparked new currents of arousal under his skin. "God," JC whispered. He couldn't think of what else to say. But he could think of what to do--or, better yet, not think. Just do. 

He thought that was probably a Yoda line, but the slide of Lance's tongue against his burnt out any desire to roll his eyes. He put a palm to Lance's chest, warmth to warmth, and turned his head just far enough to murmur, "Tell me if I--you know--" 

Lance hummed in response, and JC curled his fingertips against smooth skin. "So sexy," JC breathed, tracing his way to one flat nipple, stroking it gently, smiling when Lance gasped and arched under his touch. Lance's head went back, and JC couldn't resist, kissed his way down his chin, lower over the pulse fluttering in his throat. Licked at the notch of his collarbone before shifting on the bed, bending his head to find Lance's other nipple and brush it first with his lips, then the flat of his tongue. 

"Jayce--" Lance's voice was deep and rough, prickling lightning through JC's bones. 

"Yeah," JC said, his lips moving on Lance's skin, "tell me--tell me what you like..." He didn't know, wasn't sure if maybe at some moment he'd reach his limit, suddenly go from this haze of pleasure to a place that was weird, unnerving--but he did know that he couldn't take from Lance and not give back. 

Lance's head lifted off the pillow, then flopped back down. "You're doin' it." 

JC smiled, but he knew this couldn't be more than a tease. He slid his hand lower, _God, his skin's so smooth,_ and then his fingers caught on soft cotton and Lance groaned. 

So hard. Lance was so hard, the fabric stretched tight over his cock, and JC cupped him just a moment in his palm, feeling the small patch of dampness under his thumb, and then it was only natural to reach inside the waistband, find the lace, tug the knot apart and slip his hand past the elastic to find the heat of bare skin. 

Sliding his hand down, JC wrapped his fingers around Lance's cock. It was smooth and heavy, the skin of the shaft hot and dry. It felt good, not as strange as he'd feared. Still, he had never touched anyone but himself like this before, and he wasn't really sure how to start. So he tightened his grip and pulled slowly up from the base to the tip in one long, twisting stroke, and felt Lance's whole body shudder in response. 

JC smiled. That was how he liked it, too. 

Another couple of slow strokes and Lance was writhing, growling, his fingers pinching at his own nipples. JC's mouth went dry as he watched, and then he sat all the way up, letting go and pulling his hand out of Lance's pants. Lance made an incoherent sound of protest and blinked up at JC for a second. "What...?" 

JC's hands went to Lance's waistband. "I just, I wanna see you." He pulled at the sweatpants and Lance lifted his hips, helping. "I want to look at you when I touch you." He skimmed the pants down Lance's legs and off, reaching for Lance's cock again almost before the pants hit the floor. Lance sighed in relief as JC resumed his strokes, slicking his fingers over the crown and slowly down the shaft, then back up again. 

JC lay down beside Lance and rested his head on Lance's chest, looking down at his fingers wrapped around Lance's hard dick. He could hear--feel--Lance's heartbeat pounding under his ear. JC had never looked so closely at another man's cock before. It was thick, thicker than JC's, and the head blushed red and shiny, a bead of clear fluid leaking from the swollen slit. JC caught it on his fingers on the next upstroke, using it to smooth his way back down. 

Lance gasped, shifting his hips against the bedspread as JC's hand moved on him. "God... oh, _God_ ," he breathed, threading his fingers gently through JC's hair. Not pushing him down, not pulling at him, just rubbing careful fingers over JC's head where it rested on his chest. 

_He doesn't want to make me do anything I don't want to do._ JC licked his lips and wondered what it would feel like, what it would taste like, to kiss, to take it in his mouth... he wasn't that far away. Should he? He didn't know if he could. 

Instead, JC stroked harder, twisting his wrist, watching as the muscles in Lance's stomach tightened and quivered. Lance responded to the increase in pressure and speed with a low groan and a slight jerk of his hips. JC lifted his head and looked up at Lance's wanton face. Eyes closed. Mouth open. Panting. 

_Beautiful._ How had he never noticed it before? 

JC felt himself growing hard again. He nuzzled at Lance's chest with his lips, keeping his hand moving below. "You. Lance. You're just, you're--God--so hot." 

Lance's answering laugh was breathy, strained. "Jayce--" He shook his head, gasped again. " _You_..." he whispered. "Not me." 

JC's head came up again, and this time Lance met his eyes for a moment before turning his head slightly, looking away. Embarrassed? "Lance," JC said, leaning up to kiss Lance's cheek. "Lance, look at me." 

Lance winced before opening his eyes in response. He shifted his hips a little, pushing himself into JC's still-moving hand. "Please, JC," he begged, "I just--please," he repeated, "'s not gonna take that much more, can we just--" 

JC tightened his grip, and Lance arched up, his nails digging into JC's shoulder before he seemed to realize what he was doing and let go. 

"Lance," JC said before Lance could say anything more, "you are. So... so sexy. God, you're beautiful." He brushed his lips over Lance's mouth, wanting more, tempted, but not letting himself get sidetracked. "I'm not--I don't want this to be over, that's not--" He shook his head. The words weren't coming. "Here," he finally said. "Just--relax, okay?" Another quick kiss, and then he slid himself down the bed, not giving either one of them time to protest. 

Lance was still hard, slightly sticky under his palm. JC shifted over so he was kneeling between Lance's legs. The position was familiar from being with girls, but Lance was no girl, and this was going to be strange but all JC knew was that it had to be good, _he_ had to be good, he had to make this--maybe he couldn't be as good at it as Lance was, but he had to _show_ Lance how much he wanted him. JC gave himself just long enough to take in the image of Lance stretched out before him, creamy skin flushed and damp with arousal, one hand reaching down to--stop him? Urge him on?--and then he bent to fit his lips over the head of Lance's cock. 

Salty-slick. Big, _Jesus, big_. JC licked, sucked a little--warm-- _Lance, this is Lance_ \--he opened his mouth wider, his lips coming under to cover his teeth, and when Lance groaned, the _need_ in his voice burned through JC's body, tightening his balls, his own erection throbbing where it was caught against his stomach. 

_I can do this--what am I doing?--don't bite don't bite--down, little further, then up, down again, don't go too deep, don't choke, don't choke--_

JC's fingers were still wrapped around Lance's shaft, keeping him still. But Lance wasn't moving anyway; he was holding himself rigid, frozen in place except for a faint tremor that ran through his body when JC drew his mouth up, sucking hard on smooth wet skin. A minute later, Lance gasped for air, his belly heaving, and JC realized Lance hadn't even been breathing. JC let Lance slip from his mouth for a moment. "Relax," he whispered. "I promise--I may not be great at this, but I promise not to hurt you, okay?" 

There was a strangled sound from the pillows. "Jayce--y'don't have--oh, God--" JC smiled as his tongue cut Lance's worried words short. 

Oh, yes. That was nice. Hearing Lance's breath hitch, stop, start again; feeling him shiver as JC tried licking, curling his tongue, pressing against the places he knew _he_ liked. _I understand this_ , he thought, _it's not familiar, but it makes sense._

Pulling away until he held only the crown in his mouth, JC swirled his tongue against the head. It was hot against his tongue, hot and slick. Lance's helpless whimper was all the encouragement he needed, so he slipped his tongue around the smooth curve again and again as he slowly pumped Lance's shaft with one hand. Lance responded by running trembling fingers over JC's head, whispering, his voice rough, "Yeah, oh yeah, oh, _please_..." 

It was exciting, Lance's responsiveness. JC's heart swelled with the knowledge that _he_ was making Lance writhe and groan like this. He was the one making Lance feel this good. 

Lance's breathing grew labored and harsh. JC kept tonguing the crown until he felt the tension growing in Lance's hips, in his jerky movements, and knew Lance was getting close. _Don't think, just do._ JC dropped his head a little and took another inch into his mouth. Lance's hands came to JC's shoulders, trying to pull him up, push him off. "Jayce... please, _no_ , I'm..." Lance's voice was pleading, desperate. JC shrugged his shoulders to release himself from Lance's anxious hands and took in a little more. 

He _could_ do this. He _would_. He would do it for Lance. 

Taking in as much as he could-- _thick, hard_ \--JC felt full, his lips stretched around the shaft, the head lodged firm against the back of his tongue. It was unwieldy, more awkward than he would have expected, but he was determined. He felt his throat tensing against the unfamiliar bulk filling his mouth, and tried to force himself to relax. He slid his fingers down, into the light curls at the base of Lance's dick, finally letting go of the shaft to caress Lance's balls, all tightened up below. 

Lance's hands were back on his shoulders, pulling, weak. "Please--I'm too--oh, _God_!" he gasped, breaking off as JC gave a tentative suck. What Lance said next was incoherent, not words so much as sounds, and so JC sucked again, harder, then once more. Lance dug his fingers into JC's shoulders and arched his hips up off the bed with a wail of surrender. 

The sudden movement--after all Lance's restraint--took JC by surprise, and he choked, just a little. He caught himself quickly, though, moving with Lance and tightening his mouth around him, ignoring the scrape of his teeth against his own lips when he felt Lance start to come. 

He felt it, felt the hardness in his mouth stiffen further, then pulse, and he knew, he _knew_ what Lance was feeling, and that, he thought, was maybe the hottest thing ever. His own body reacted, twitching with each shock running through Lance, an electrical circuit joining the two of them. JC closed his eyes and moaned, his hands splayed under Lance's body, holding him close. It felt so good that he didn't even really think about the bitter liquid heat filling his throat, just sucked and licked and swallowed and let the renewed pleasure hum through him like music. 

It _was_ like music, he realized. Familiar, _right_ , even if it wasn't exactly a melody he'd heard before. He'd have to tell Lance that... later. 

" _Oh_ ," JC heard; a low, stunned sound, and he looked up, letting Lance's cock slide back out of his mouth as he eased Lance back onto the mattress. His lips were bruised; he could feel them, could taste... Lance... in his mouth. 

"Um," JC said, suddenly uncertain what to say, what to do. He cleared his throat a little, licked his lips, tried to catch his breath. 

Lance's eyes were wide, his expression a blend of ecstasy and terror. "Jayce," he said, reaching down to touch JC's cheek. "I didn't mean--" 

JC smiled into Lance's caress. "I know. I wanted to," he said. "Was it--I mean--" He was fishing and he knew it, but Lance just shook his head, chuckling. 

" _God_ ," Lance said. "C'mere." JC didn't need any more urging to unfold himself from where he was and stretch out again at Lance's side, draping himself over Lance's warmth. Soft fingers stroked his cheek again, rubbing gently over his lips. "Hurt?" Lance asked. 

"Mm," JC said. "Little. 's worth it, though." He kissed first Lance's fingers and then his mouth. "Felt good," he said. "I liked... making you feel good." 

"You definitely made me... good doesn't begin to..." Lance seemed to give up on words, traced JC's lips with his tongue. Maybe he meant the touch to soothe, but JC couldn't help thrusting a little in response, and this time Lance's laugh was deeper, more confident, and JC felt a hand skim down his ribs to stroke his cock where it rested against Lance's hip. "You're so amazing," Lance whispered, fingers gentle but firm, and JC felt himself start to ache again. "I can't believe--" 

JC wound one arm around Lance's neck and pulled him closer. "What?" His hips took up a lazy rhythm, pushing into Lance's hand. 

Lance smiled, sheepish, then kissed him again, gentle against JC's sore lips. "I just, I never thought--you know. You. Here." His fingers tightened on JC's erection. " _This_." 

They kissed. JC shivered as Lance's hand moved on him, slow, tender. His eyes drifted closed as he lost himself in the sensation of Lance's mouth, Lance's fingers, the heat of Lance's body warming him in the chilly room. 

In the back of his mind, behind the haze of pleasure, JC knew there was something, something he needed to say. They were going to have to talk. But not now. Not tonight. 

There would be plenty of time for talking later. 

* * * 

JC wasn't sure what woke him. The room was quiet, and he couldn't possibly have slept for more than a couple of hours; it was still dark outside, just a faint hint of gray starting to lighten the window. He didn't remember turning the light out; Lance must have done that sometime after JC dozed off. Or passed out, more like, his entire body boneless with release. 

Lance. 

Waking up to the sound of Lance's even breathing wasn't unfamiliar at all. Breathing in the smell of sex, feeling Lance's bare skin sweat-damp against his own, tasting musky bitterness in his sleep-dry mouth... that was new. JC lay still, breathing carefully. Not wanting to disturb Lance, not knowing what to think, what to feel. 

Lance turned in his sleep, mumbling something, stretching slightly, and JC held his breath, willing Lance not to wake. Not yet ready to... to what? To talk, to deal with... whatever they'd started the night before. 

After a moment Lance subsided, and JC relaxed again, shifting to the side a little so he could see Lance's face. He wasn't really sure what to expect. Would Lance look different? Did _he_ look different? 

The light was weak, but JC could make out Lance's face, and he found himself having to consciously keep from reaching out to touch. To brush Lance's hair back from where a few strands were crushed to his forehead, stroke the sweat-stiff spikes into order. 

There were circles under Lance's eyes, and JC could see a bruise darkening on his neck. In a few hours they had to be ready for the press conference, but somehow JC couldn't get too worked up over the glares they'd doubtless get when they arrived for makeup. Actually, looking at this new, rumpled Lance, all JC could feel was an ache so sweet and so deep it took his breath away. 

He'd been watching a while; he wasn't sure how long, but long enough for the light in the room to brighten, for his own breaths to fall into rhythm with Lance's, his thoughts still drifting, confused, unformed. When Lance's breath hitched, JC blinked, and then Lance turned his head, the tip of his tongue slipping out to wet his lips, and his eyes fluttered open. 

JC realized his own mouth was open, and he closed it, unsure what to say, what to do. Lance's expression, so peaceful when he was asleep, had gone blank and closed. For a second JC almost thought Lance was going to pull away. Then Lance cleared his throat, and the corners of his mouth lifted in something that might have been a smile, except that his eyes were still wary. 

All JC could do was smile back. Smile and reach out, touch his fingers to the smooth plane of Lance's cheek. And, like the touch had broken some barrier holding him frozen, Lance's face came alive again. His lips eased into a curve that spoke of remembered pleasures, and promised more, heavy-lidded eyes clear and bright as he looked up at JC. 

JC felt his own grin grow wider in response, as his fingers drifted down to Lance's lips. "Hey," he whispered, brushing his fingertips gently over Lance's mouth. 

"Hey yourself," Lance replied, his voice low, rough with sleep. JC felt dizzy. He could hear the smile in Lance's voice. 

Then Lance reached for him, only a little tentative, pulling him closer with one hand cupped behind JC's neck. JC's stomach spiraled into freefall as he leaned over and met Lance's lips with his own. 

_Sweet._ After all their kisses last night, and everything else they'd done, it almost surprised JC that the kiss could feel so new, so sweet. Lance's mouth was soft and warm, his lips open just a little under JC's. _Maybe I should've brushed my teeth_ , JC began to think, and then Lance's tongue curled out to meet his and he stopped thinking anything at all. 

Last night their kisses had burned with the rough heat of passion, need. Now, they were slow and exploratory, all gentle lips and silky tongues, tender and warm. They still made JC breathless. Made him feel as if the room were swaying around him. He anchored himself by resting one hand on Lance's bare chest above the sheet. Under his fingers he could feel Lance's heartbeat quickening. 

When they parted, JC pulled back a little, looking down into Lance's flushed face. _God._ His eyes. His mouth. They were damn distracting. How was he supposed to look at Lance's face after this and not want to kiss him? JC found himself smiling again, so much that it was hard to talk. "Um. I just, I wanna say," he ducked his head in embarrassment, "you know, thank you." 

Lance looked at him, eyes wide. "You're thankin' _me_?" He rolled on his side to face JC, propping his head up on his hand. "For what?" 

"For, you know..." JC gestured helplessly. "For everything. For last night. For... showing me, for making me feel so good." JC knew he was blushing. He felt like a tool. What kind of person said thank you in the morning? 

But Lance wasn't looking at him like he thought JC was a tool. His eyes shone with emotion, and when he spoke again, his voice was a little shaky. "Anytime." He smiled and shook his head. " _Really_." 

JC wanted to say more, but he didn't know exactly what he wanted to say. Just that there were things... some things that he should probably try to... 

He opened his mouth, but the words that were there weren't the ones he was hoping to be able to find. "Um, I guess we should get up?" It shouldn't have been a question, but it came out that way. 

"I guess." Lance sighed. "I don't know what we're gonna say to the guys after this." The corner of his mouth quirked up, causing a tiny dimple JC couldn't believe he'd never noticed before. Now he wanted to kiss it. 

Then Lance's words struck him. God, was it only yesterday morning when Lance had told them about the joke? It seemed a lifetime ago now. "Oh, God," he said. "They're gonna..." He couldn't even think. Kill them? Not believe them? Yeah, that was more likely. They'd probably think this was just more of the joke. And then they'd feel like they could tease back, make fun of the whole thing, and if he'd thought they'd been insufferable before, now it would be, God, a thousand times worse. JC winced and slumped down, leaning into Lance's touch, Lance's warmth, his face ending up half on the pillow and half against Lance's shoulder. 

A strong hand pulled him closer. "Yeah," Lance agreed, shifting over on his back so JC could rest on him. A moment's silence, then Lance spoke again, his voice low but even, reassuring. "Well, 'sufficient unto the day,' right? It's..." he turned to look at the clock, "not even 6:30. And you know the rule: Until the wakeup call, it's still last night. I vote we don't have to worry about them yet." Lance's lips pressed down on the top of JC's head, an oddly comforting caress. 

JC smiled. How could he not? Lance was so warm, so solid, so _safe_. Lance's skin was so smooth, right there under his mouth. He licked, softly, tasting salt and sweat and, under that, something like honey. Lance made a sound, not quite a moan but more than a breath, and JC rocked his hips forward, echoing Lance's sigh. 

It was strange, and if he stopped to think about it it was scary, not so much the being with a guy part but how _right_ this felt, how he felt like he could do this forever, wake up just like this--in Lance's arms--every day for the rest of his life. 

That couldn't be real. It was just sex, just some weird combination of hormones and friendship, and it would all sort out and make sense, and if right this minute he felt more connected to Lance than he ever had to Bobbie or anyone else on the planet, that was just afterglow, right? It would pass, maybe in a week, maybe in a month, whatever--they'd go back to being friends, everything would be okay. This _thing_ , everything that had happened in the past however many hours, would be something in the past, something that would fade into memory. 

Of course, somehow that thought made his heart pound, his throat tighten, even worse than worrying about what stupid tricks Chris and Justin might come up with in the name of "romance." 

All of which was a damn good reason not to think about it. Lance was right. In less than an hour the phone would be ringing and they'd have to deal with the rest of the world. He could think about all this then. Right now, Lance's erection was hot against his stomach, and Lance's fingers were stroking down the nape of his neck, soothing and arousing at the same time. JC took a breath, trying to find the molecules of peace and pleasure and happiness that had filled the room all night and just inhale those, leaving the questions and fears for another time, another place. He placed one more kiss on Lance's collarbone, then raised his head, shifting up so their bodies could fit together. "Worry about who?" JC asked, smiling, and when Lance's lips curved in answer, JC stopped having to think about relaxation techniques and just let himself fall. 

* * * 

"You have _got_ to be kidding." Chris's voice was flat. He came to a stop at the edge of the breakfast table and put his hands on his hips, squinting across at JC and Lance. 

JC tried to look innocent. "What, Chris?" Lance kept his eyes on his French toast, but JC saw him smiling down at his plate like a madman. 

Chris pinned JC with a glare. "This is taking it a little far, don't you think?" He leaned over and pointed at the love bite on Lance's neck, clearly visible above the collar of his v-neck tee. "Joke's over, guys. You got us, remember? Don't you know when to let go?" 

JC shrugged sheepishly. Lance bowed his head a little lower and bit his lips. 

Justin walked up behind Chris, hung over and grumpy. "God, guys, you were makin' so much noise last night I could hardly sleep. You don't have to keep on with this thing on our account, you know? I thought you said, yesterday, over, right? You want to get us again," even just out of bed, his tone made it clear he thought that was unlikely, "you gotta come up with a new gag." 

"Um. It's not exactly..." JC cleared his throat. "It wasn't on your account, J." He felt himself blushing. Lance was shaking beside him, his shoulders hitching as he tried his hardest not to laugh out loud. JC grinned at him. "Little help, here, Lance?" 

Lance finally gave up, sputtering into his napkin. When he'd recovered, he turned to Justin. "Sorry," he said, still giggling, and then, smiling at JC, "or, y'know. Not." 

Lance's eyes glowed like sun-warmed jade, and JC thought his own heart might stop just looking at them. 

"Oh, for Christ's sake--" 

JC forced himself to focus on something other than Lance. "I'm sorry, Chris. I know this is..." He shrugged. "I guess we..." 

_We what?_ JC realized he really couldn't say. He didn't know what Lance was feeling, and even if he did, he didn't want to invite any more retaliation than absolutely necessary. "I guess we spoke too soon," he finally said, spreading his hands wide and praying Chris would let it go. Justin, thankfully, had slouched into a chair and was in the process of abusing a bowl of Corn Pops. 

Chris made another disgusted noise, but took a seat next to Justin and stuck a soup spoon into his friend's cereal bowl. 

"Hey!" Justin slapped Chris's hand, slopping milk on both of them and the table. 

"Children, children." Joey had come in silently. JC could feel Joey looking at him, at Lance, and he wasn't sure he wanted to meet Joey's eyes. He still didn't know what to say... or what Joey might say. 

He was sure, though, that Joey couldn't fault his sincerity, and in the end he lifted his chin and did his best to look both unapologetic and confident. 

Joey didn't say anything, just quirked an eyebrow at JC for a moment, then smiled to himself as he settled into one of the remaining chairs and started lifting silver lids. "How's the sausage?" he asked no one in particular. 

Chris groaned. 

JC choked on his orange juice. 

Lance started giggling again. 

A few seconds later, JC looked up to see Justin blinking at him, his mouth full of Corn Pops. "Wait," he said as he chewed. "You two," he pointed his spoon back and forth between Lance and JC, "joking, right?" 

JC flushed red again as everyone turned to look at him. He glanced around the table. "It's, um. No joke." 

Justin's eyebrows lifted nearly to his hairline. "Whoa." He shoved in another heaping spoonful of Corn Pops. "So you're, like... the two of you, um, you know?" 

JC almost felt like he should apologize again, but glancing at Lance, he just didn't want to. He started to smile instead. "Yeah, Justin. I guess you could say that. Um, whatever it was you just said." Lance shook with laughter beside him, leaning back in the chair. 

"Whatever." Chris waved it all aside. "You guys are _so_ gonna get it. When you least expect it." He dug into his scrambled eggs. "You can't prank the prank king, boys." 

And despite the edge to Chris's tone, and the confusion in Justin's eyes, and Joey's quiet amusement, JC just had to be happy. Because looking at how Lance was shining at him now, he knew that even if he wasn't sure what was happening, he wanted it to happen. 

No joke. 

* * *


	2. Jokers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clubbing, eyeliner, limo, elevator, hotel, and getting freaky.

**Part Two: Freakin'**

_Freak me, baby._  
_Freak me, baby._  
_Freak me, baby._  


The beat was insistent, the groove undeniable. The club walls were shaking even outside the building. Just walking with the other guys from the limo to the VIP door, JC felt the bass kicking up into his spine, dragging him forward, pulling him in. 

Inside, it was even louder. Loud and dark and hot; sweaty bodies moving to the beat. JC caught the rhythm naturally, immediately, and began to sway and bounce even before he got to the table. 

_Freak me, baby._

He hadn't wanted to come, at first, and on the way back from the Garden after the last show he'd tried to beg off. Justin and Chris were just starting in on him-- _JC, it's Friday night in New York City, you **have** to come_ \--when, surprisingly, Lance had leaned over and whispered in his ear, "C'mon, C, I feel like dancing." And, just like that, JC had tilted his head and nodded in agreement, changing his mind without the slightest hesitation. Joey and Chris exchanged glances and Justin rolled his eyes. Lance just smiled. 

Now that he was here, a drink in his hand, walking from the bar to a table with his four best friends, JC was glad he'd come. The throbbing music was like a heartbeat, it got under his skin and seemed to take over his body from the inside. The music made it easy not to think. Just feel. 

_Freak me, baby._

The music wasn't the only reason JC was happy to be there. He stole another glance at Lance, walking beside him through the crowd. Black leather pants, laced up in front. A tight, sleeveless black shirt. Black boots. _Good God._ JC's stomach had done a lazy, fluttery flip when he'd seen Lance walking down the hall before they left the hotel. JC had made himself breathe, told himself to act normal. _It's okay. It's just Lance. He's not..._ Then he'd noticed the eyeliner, and his knees had almost buckled. He had leaned against the wall quickly, like he'd meant to do it, and had tried to keep his hands to himself when Lance got close enough to touch. 

They'd shared a limo with Joey; Chris and Justin had gone in the first car, a minute or so ahead of them. JC had watched Lance out of the corner of his eye all the way to the club. JC couldn't believe that Joey didn't even seem to notice that Lance looked... different. 

Now, sliding into a booth in the club's VIP area, JC realized that Lance didn't just _look_ different, he was _moving_ differently. Smoother. Looser. Or something. Lance caught him looking, and smiled, showing his teeth and a brief flash of dimple. JC gulped down the end of his first drink and started looking around for a waitress. If Lance was going to look at him like that in public, he needed more alcohol. 

The music was great; the DJ was one of the best in the city. Chris didn't even make it to the table before he started dancing, throwing himself into the crowd, one of the bodyguards wading right in after him. Justin followed him, and within seconds they were surrounded by girls, dancing wildly, hands in the air, bouncing to the beat. 

Joey, JC and Lance sat at the table with their drinks, laughing and talking. It was easy to laugh about things now that the New York shows were over and the pressure of performance was off for a couple of days. They were giddy with exhaustion and relief, and the knowledge that they'd be home soon. The first leg of the tour was almost over. 

"This DJ is awesome, huh?" JC yelled over the music. Joey and Lance agreed, nodding along with the beat. JC's glass was empty again, the last slivers of ice melting quickly on his tongue. The waitress would be back by in a minute, but if he kept going at this rate he'd end up passed out within an hour. He gestured toward the dance floor. "I'm gonna--" he said, and made himself stand up without waiting to see if anyone-- _Lance_ \--was following. 

A few steps from the table and the crowd closed around him like water, the beat vibrating up through his shoes, drumming out conscious thought. He closed his eyes and moved, letting the exercise take the place of more liquor to work off the tension filling him. 

It couldn't have been more than a few minutes, because his hair wasn't even really wet yet, when he felt a hand on his hip and warm breath at his cheek. His eyes flew open just as Lance's growl curled into his ear. "Want some company?" 

JC was glad he couldn't see his own expression. He just swallowed and nodded, feeling his heart pound in a way that definitely wasn't related to exercise. He should close his eyes again, he knew, but Lance was right there, moving to the music, the fabric of his shirt molding to his body, and not looking was simply not an option. In the interest of not ending up on the cover of tomorrow's _Post_ , JC curled his hands into fists to keep from putting them flat on Lance's chest and _petting_. 

Four nights together now, and instead of getting used to it, he was starting to think he was losing his mind. He could still focus when they were performing, of course--though he had to be careful during Justin's leads, not to let his eyes... and thoughts... drift. But anytime they weren't on stage, he was just so _aware_. Of where Lance was. What he was doing. What he was wearing. How he smelled. 

"You look great tonight." Lance must have shouted it to be heard over the music. 

JC couldn't hold back a startled laugh. Did Lance have any idea what _he_ looked like? Then it occurred to him that probably Lance _didn't_ , so he said it out loud, leaning in quickly so everyone around them wouldn't hear. "Not as good as you." And sure enough, that got one of those puzzled looks for a second, followed by a smile that was like the sun rising, uncertain at first, hidden by clouds or the horizon, but growing to light, well, everything. 

"Yeah?" Lance glanced down at himself, a quick flicker of eyelashes, and then his eyes were glowing at JC again. "You like what you see?" In the crowd, how close they were dancing was pretty much determined by all the other people surrounding them, but it felt like Lance shifted a little closer, just for a moment. Though maybe it was just JC's imagination. 

"Oh yeah." 

Then Lance was turning around, moving with the beat, his hips rocking more invitingly than JC thought was possible, and God, those pants were molded to him, weren't they? He couldn't possibly be wearing anything under there. 

And that thought, that image, creamy skin flexing under the supple leather, jolted JC so hard he actually lost the beat. Gasping, he tripped forward a little when someone bumped his suddenly motionless hip, and he stumbled against Lance's back, steadying himself with a hand at Lance's waist. Looking back over his shoulder, Lance smiled at JC and kept dancing, pushing back against JC's body, the swell of his ass bumping against JC's crotch for a few beats, rubbing over the rising ridge of his fly. Oh, _yeah..._

The sway of Lance's hips nudged him back into motion, and JC tipped his head up and closed his eyes and danced, just letting sensation roll through him, wash over him. He was grateful for the music that kept the crowd moving all around them, kept people from focusing too much on what he and Lance were doing. Still, after a few seconds JC forced himself to move away from Lance a little, although he lingered close enough that he could still feel Lance's heat. 

Even without touching, the front of JC's body was sensitized to Lance; as he danced, he felt his own nipples stiffening against the silk of his shirt, felt the ache in his groin. Lance really _was_ like the sun, a bright, burning presence that he didn't have to see to know it was there. The heat radiating from Lance seemed directed only at him, and even with his eyes closed JC sensed when Lance turned to face him again a little later. 

JC watched from under his eyelashes. Lance was dancing like JC had never seen him dance before. Not so much his moves--because there really wasn't that much space for _moves_ on the crowded dance floor--as his seeming lack of self-consciousness. He was dancing with his eyes half-closed, not looking around to check if anyone was watching or to see what other people were doing. Definitely not counting the beats. The sway of his shoulders and the swing of his hips seemed loose and sexy, but in a way that didn't look like he was _trying_ to be sexy. He even knew what to do with his arms, raising his hands overhead and bringing them back down slowly, running them over his own face and throat, his skin slick with sweat, then farther down onto his chest, touching himself as JC watched, dry-mouthed. 

Then the music shifted to something different, some techno track with a deep, dirty bass beat, and JC felt his own blood pounding in time with the driving rhythm. Around them, the crowd grew wilder, hotter, and Lance licked his lips and opened his eyes. The dark shine of pupils ringed by pale green pulled JC closer, close enough to see the black smudges under Lance's lashes. 

_When did he start wearing makeup offstage?_ And, close on the heels of that thought, _When did he get so fucking gorgeous?_ Looking at Lance, JC couldn't understand why any of the girls at the shows were still screaming for Justin. He wanted nothing more than to stand and stare. For a few seconds, it wasn't even a choice; he stopped himself just short of leaning forward to lick the sheen of sweat from Lance's cheekbone. And then some small voice of sanity kicked in, _This isn't Bobbie, or even some groupie; this is Lance, and all it'd take is one person with a camera in here and this whole thing comes crashing down._ He blinked, shook his head quickly, and settled for using his tongue to wet his own dry lips. 

His expression must have been completely transparent. Lance, still not missing a beat, grinned at him, one eye narrowing in a wink. Lance's joy was irresistible; JC threw back his head and laughed, letting the music pulse through him, and what the hell, if Lance could put on a show then so could he. He caught Lance's eye again, returning the wink, and then let his eyes slide closed, his hips moving, thinking about how Lance had looked, touching his face, touching his body. JC felt a little self-conscious, working it like that, but he didn't open his eyes, just pictured Lance--and the images behind his eyelids shifted from Lance dancing to Lance last night, biting his lower lip as JC's hands moved on him... 

He smiled as he danced, and he wanted to look, wanted to see how Lance liked the taste of his own medicine, but when there was a voice in his ear it wasn't the sexy bass he was expecting. 

"Dude," Joey said, "You are the only show in town." JC blinked at him, focusing quickly. Joey was smiling, but his eyes were serious. "I don't think anyone's figured out who you're performing for, but I'd rather not be here when they do, y'know?" Joey glanced at Lance--still dancing, pretending not to notice the interruption, but JC saw him watching the two of them talk--then back to JC. "I'm not trying to spoil--" Joey gestured vaguely, "just, take it somewhere more private, huh?" 

JC wanted to argue, at first; wanted to tell Joey to mind his own business--all he was doing was dancing, and they'd danced with each other before, plenty of times. It didn't have to mean anything. But then he thought about how Lance had looked--how Lance still looked, face flushed, hips sliding in lazy circles to the slower beat now thrumming through the room, and he had to admit Joey might have a point. And from the look on Joey's face, JC knew his own arousal was probably just as obvious as Lance's. This was a dangerous game to play in public. 

"Thanks, Joe." He forced a smile. "I owe you one. Is it, um," ridiculously, he felt himself blushing, "okay if we take the limo back? You catch a ride with J and Chris?" 

Joey shrugged and gave JC's shoulder a squeeze. "Sure, no problem, man." 

Catching Lance's eye, JC tilted his head slightly toward the table and left the floor. Lance followed a few seconds later. 

"What's up?" Lance picked up the drink he'd left on the table and finished it. 

"Joey's trying to save us from ourselves," JC tried to joke. 

Lance glanced across the dance floor at Joey dancing with three women at once, and smiled a little. "Yeah. Well, you know. He probably just wanted to get you off the floor so he'd have a chance with the girls." He brushed his fingers across the back of JC's hand on the table. His voice dropped to a husky whisper, and JC leaned closer to hear. "You were pretty fucking hot out there." 

JC felt light-headed. How was it possible that a whisper and the slightest touch could send his pulse into overdrive and make him gasp for air? He looked at Lance and saw his own hunger mirrored in green eyes. He forced himself not to grab Lance by the wrist and drag him to the door. "Let's go." 

Lance nodded, and slid past JC to lead the way out of the crowded club. Following behind, JC tried his hardest not to stare at Lance, the way he prowled, the sexy roll of his hips, how those leather pants gripped his ass. 

He failed miserably. 

Through the crowd. Out of the club. Down the alley, with Lonnie striding along beside them. Into the limo. Alone at last. 

JC raised the privacy shield as soon as the door was closed, and before the driver had eased the car away from the curb he was kissing Lance, half-climbing over Lance's legs to straddle his thighs on the back seat. Lance groaned into the kiss and pulled JC closer, his hands tight on JC's hips. 

"Do you know?" JC gasped against Lance's mouth, "Do you even _know_ how hot you were back there?" Instead of waiting for an answer, he pinned Lance back against the seat and kissed him hungrily, again and again. 

After a minute, JC pulled back and looked into Lance's face. The streetlights flashing by outside the car shone weakly through the dark tinted glass of the windows. " _Do you know?_ " JC couldn't have said why it was so important to him that Lance understand what he was feeling, but it was. 

Lance answered with an embarrassed chuckle. "Uh. I'm glad you liked it." 

"Liked it?" JC ran his fingers down Lance's face and neck, ending up with his hands pressed flat against Lance's hard chest. " _Liked it_ is kind of an understatement." 

Not waiting for an answer, JC pushed himself back and off the seat, kneeling on the floor of the car. Then he pulled Lance's thighs apart and fit himself between them, leaning up to catch Lance's mouth in another kiss. "You looked like," he said, fitting the words in between more kisses, "pure sex... so hot... wanted to touch..." His hands were on Lance's thighs now, squeezing hard muscle under the buttery leather. Lance made a soft noise, shifting on the seat, not quite humping up, but it was pretty clear he wouldn't say no to what JC had in mind. Not that it would have mattered much if he had. 

JC worked his thumbs higher, inching up Lance's inseams, unable to tear his mouth away from Lance's just yet. "All I could think... these pants," he whispered, "so sexy. You, so _sexy_. That... _eyeliner_ , God." Lance was low enough on the seat now that JC could--stretching--reach to lick the corner of Lance's eye, imagining he could taste the kohl mixing with the salt of Lance's sweat. His fingers, still moving, found Lance's erection and they both moaned, Lance panting a little. 

"Jayce..." Lance's voice curled through JC's body, and JC pressed down in response, rocking his hand flat against hard heat. "I'm-- _oh--_ " Lance's last word cut off with a gasp, his head falling back against the cushions. 

So good, so good. Lance, hot and ready, his skin translucent in the light flickering in from outside. "So beautiful," JC whispered, but no matter how good this was, he wanted more. JC pressed forward for another kiss as his fingers plucked at the laces at Lance's waist. 

He shouldn't. He didn't remember how long it had taken to get to the club from the hotel, but it hadn't been all that long, had it? They could be pulling up at the curb any minute... 

The knot gave, and JC's fingers slipped inside, grazing over smooth skin, "Knew you couldn't be... wearing anything under there," he gasped, feeling himself get even harder as his thumb found the slickness at Lance's tip. 

Fuck it. If they got there, he'd just tell the driver to go around the block. He kissed Lance's mouth one more time, hungry and deep, before pulling away with a groan to scoot back a little, loosening the laces and tugging Lance's fly all the way open. "Wanted--" he said, bending down to inhale the mingled scents of leather and Lance, "to do this... all night." He worked his hand into Lance's pants, easing Lance's balls out of the confining leather, cupping them gently as he lifted Lance's cock to his mouth. 

"Jayce--" Lance's voice was strained, maybe a little shocked? But his cock was hard, waiting, and JC really had better things to do with his mouth than talk. 

He was still a little scared every time he did this. Especially this time, in a car--what if the driver suddenly braked? Though it didn't feel like they were going that fast; thank God for Manhattan traffic, even at 1 AM. He concentrated on holding Lance carefully, making sure there was no chance of accidentally scraping or biting. Licking, that would be safe, and surely it would be all right to just take a little bit in, soft suction, stroking his fingers lovingly down Lance's shaft, over his balls. Salt and slick and JC could _taste_ the leather, heady against his palate, making lights dance behind his eyelids as even more blood left his brain. 

Lance moaned quietly as JC touched him, licked him. The soft sound tugged at JC, pulled at him somewhere in his chest. _Lance._ He pulled up a little to tongue around the crown of Lance's cock, and was rewarded with a helpless gasp. The sounds Lance made still caught JC off guard. Of course he knew Lance's voice, knew it nearly as well as he knew his own; how could he not, after years of singing together? But this... these sounds--the sighs and moans and the deep groans--it was like hearing Lance's voice for the first time, every time. More than that, he felt his own body responding, as if Lance's voice was resonating somewhere deep within JC himself. 

Easing his mouth back down around the hard shaft, JC felt Lance pulse and throb beneath his lips. _God._ That feeling... Suddenly JC's whole body was attuned to sensation. His fingertips trembled on the soft skin of Lance's cock and balls. The gentle vibration of the car under his knees sent a shiver through him, and even the fabric of his own clothes seemed to rub too much where it touched his skin. 

The world outside--the lights, the muted blare of taxi horns, signaling the existence of other people--seemed unreal, distant. Inside the car, _this_ was what was real. 

Over the last four nights, Lance had grown a little more willing to encourage JC with his hands, to ask aloud for what he wanted. Now JC felt fingers brushing lightly over his hair, and he tilted his head to meet the touch, without taking his mouth off of Lance. He hummed in satisfaction as Lance stroked his hair back from his brow. 

JC felt the tension building in Lance's body and he gripped the shaft a little tighter, concentrating on keeping his teeth covered. His tongue slipped against the smooth tip of Lance's cock, and Lance's hips twitched beneath him. "JC... oh--oh, God. _Please._ " Lance's rough whisper seemed to slide right through JC's body and into his hard dick. 

JC nodded. "Please," he wanted to reply, wanted to moan, wanted to open his own pants and hump against whatever was within reach. His hand, Lance's leg, the seat--he wasn't feeling choosy. But at the same time he wouldn't give up being exactly where he was, not for anything. Lance's cock shifted in JC's mouth as his head moved, and he smiled, letting the moan, at least, rise to the surface, letting it buzz from his throat to Lance's skin. 

" _Oh--_ " Lance's hips lifted slightly, just the faintest thrust, and one of his hands left JC's hair to--JC glanced up, saw Lance scratching blunt nails through his own hair, fisting the short spikes, pulling. Lance's head was tipped back, and JC groaned again, louder this time. He didn't _think_ he could come without even being touched, but he was starting to wonder. He closed his eyes--safer that way--and sucked, needing the focus, needing Lance's bulk filling him, anchoring him. His fingers stroked Lance's balls and he imagined how the touch would feel, pulling heat, trailing sparks. 

"Jayce... God, _Jayce_ \--" 

God, he loved Lance's voice. Lance, like this, his breath coming fast, the words coming out strained, disjointed--it was as much music as anything JC had ever written, and he wanted to hear it again and again. Yes... yes... He felt Lance's muscles tighten, heard one final gasp, and then warm pulses were filling his mouth, Lance sighing as all the tension in his body released; and at the same time, JC felt the car turn, easing up the driveway to the hotel's front door. 

_Shit._ JC moved into action quickly, silently. Up on his knees between Lance's splayed thighs, JC carefully tucked Lance back into the black leather pants. Still lying slack and dazed across the seat, Lance blinked up at him. "Huh?" 

"'s okay, baby. We're at the hotel. Just need to get you--" JC clumsily held Lance's fly closed and began to pull the laces tighter. Still kneeling, he could feel the car inching forward, slower than he had expected, _thank God_. He knew Lance must still be sensitive and stopped short of yanking the strings. "You wanna-- I don't want to hurt you--" 

Lance groaned and took the laces, sliding up in the seat a little and squinting down to see what he was doing. JC sat back on his heels and wiped the back of his hand across his wet mouth. God, what they must look like. Well, he could _see_ what Lance looked like, flushed cheeks and bright eyes, his eyelids heavy with pleasure. Beautiful. Sexy. Sated. JC's own erection had subsided somewhat with the threat of discovery, but he knew he probably looked just as debauched as Lance. 

JC lurched a little as the car came to a stop. Lance fumbled with the knot at his waist, finishing up just as JC heard the front doors open. 

A second later, the back door swung wide, and JC led the way out of the car. Lonnie had come with them from the club, in the front seat with the driver, and he stood waiting with an impassive look on his face. JC waited for Lance to emerge, then the three of them entered the brightly lit lobby, heading for the elevators. JC kept his eyes down as he walked quickly across the marble floor, and sensed Lance doing the same beside him. 

Safe inside the elevator, he let himself breathe a sigh of relief. They rode up in silence, Lonnie standing between them, but JC could feel the tension crackling in the tiny, enclosed space. Was it really less than a week ago that he'd kissed Lance for the first time, right here in the elevator? It seemed like it should be frightening, how hard it had become to remember a world where he'd never tasted Lance's mouth, had never heard him moan in release. It should be frightening that he and Lance had almost been caught just now. Not that Lonnie would talk, but it still wasn't smart to take chances like that. 

But JC wasn't frightened. In fact, he couldn't wait until they reached the room, so they could continue where they'd left off. 

Almost as if he knew what JC was thinking, Lance shot him a look across the elevator, one elegant eyebrow arching up. JC smiled and glanced over at the laces of Lance's pants. Hysterical giggles bubbled up inside his chest and had to look away to keep them down. He felt Lance shifting from foot to foot on the other side of Lonnie and bit the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing aloud. 

JC had regained enough control to smile up at Lonnie as the three of them got off the elevator. The hall was empty. "We're in for the night," JC said, one hand on the elevator doors to keep them from closing. "Thanks, man." 

"You want me to check the rooms?" Lonnie asked. 

"Nah. I think we're safe. Get some sleep." 

There was a second when JC thought Lonnie was going to argue, but then he just shrugged. "Okay. See you tomorrow, guys." 

"Sweet dreams," Lance said, and a moment later Lonnie was gone, and then JC was pressed up against the cool metal of the elevator door, Lance flattened against him. Lance's hands in his hair, Lance's tongue stroking his own. "God," Lance breathed, "Jayce..." 

JC moaned, the ache in his cock returning quickly, and he pulled Lance harder against him, the warm leather soft and smooth under his fingers. _Nothing under there but skin._ He ground forward, sighing into Lance's mouth as the image of Lance in the limo, sleepy-eyed and sated, combined with the agonizing friction to spark electricity through him. "Please," he said, only he didn't seem to be able to actually form the word. Probably because he hadn't taken his tongue out of Lance's mouth, he thought, and he'd have started giggling again except there wasn't enough air left in his lungs to do it. 

Lance's hands moved to JC's hips, fingers snaking into his back pockets, and JC heard himself whimper. When Lance growled low in his throat and pulled away, the whimper became plaintive, until JC was able to focus on the piece of plastic Lance was holding up. "You didn't really think I could fit a cardkey in these pants, did you?" Lance asked, grinning, already turning to head down the hall. 

JC laughed and followed, catching up at the doorway to his room and running his hands appreciatively over Lance's ass. "I'll carry the key anytime if it means I get a view like this," he murmured in Lance's ear, and then he had to laugh again, giggling against the back of Lance's neck as they stumbled into the room. 

"What?" Lance chained the door behind them, but when he turned to face JC his expression had changed. 

JC just shook his head, still laughing. "I sound like such an idiot," he said. "I don't... I don't know how to say this stuff. I'm not used to..." 

Lance's face stiffened. JC couldn't have explained what the difference was, something in his eyes, but it was like a window closing. "You don't have to say anything you don't want to," Lance said, his tone flat. A world away from the sexy swagger JC had followed down the hallway. 

JC shook his head, taking a step forward, putting his hands on Lance's chest. "No," he said quickly, "Lance--that's not--I just..." He took a breath, tried to organize his words. "I want to," he said. "I want _you_." Lance didn't look entirely reassured, but he wasn't quite so tense anymore. JC stroked the soft fabric under his fingers. "I know what to say to girls," JC said quietly. "I know to compliment their clothes, their hair. I don't... know how to--what to say to you." 

"You were doing fine earlier," Lance said, after only a moment's hesitation. He wasn't quite meeting JC's eyes, but he wasn't pulling away either. "Really, um. Right up until you started laughing at me." 

JC swallowed, taken aback. He brought one hand up to stroke Lance's cheek. "Lance-- I wasn't. No." He waited until Lance looked at him again. "I'm just, I'm so glad to, you know, be with you. It makes me act like a big dork. Say corny stuff that I think _you're_ gonna laugh at." He gave an embarrassed shrug. "I was just laughing at myself, Lance. Really." 

Lance searched his face for a minute, his gaze intent. Then his lips relaxed into a small smile and he rubbed his cheek against JC's fingers. "I like it when you say corny stuff." 

"Yeah?" JC whispered, gasping a second later when Lance's hands slipped around his waist and pulled him closer. 

"Yeah. I do." Lance blinked lazily at JC, and when he spoke again his voice was even deeper. "I like it when you say whatever you're thinking." His whisper was hot against JC's mouth. 

It was as sexy as a kiss, JC thought, sharing the same space, the same air. He slipped his hands down to Lance's hips, fitting their bodies together, feeling Lance hot and hard against him. 

Lance leaned closer and kissed him lightly, pulling back before JC could deepen the kiss. "So... what are you thinking?" 

It was hard to keep his brain working at all when his head felt like it was going to spin right off, but Lance had asked him a question, and JC wanted to answer. 

"Uh. I'm so. God, Lance. You make me so... horny." He slipped his hands up under the back of Lance's shirt, sliding his fingers against the smooth skin. "I look at you--anytime, anywhere, it doesn't matter--and I want. To touch. Like... this..." He brought his hands up higher on Lance's back, inside his shirt, and leaned forward to kiss a trail along his jaw. 

Lance's breath hitched and he tilted his head back and to the side a little. JC took the hint and moved lower, kissing Lance's throat, licking at his Adam's apple. Lance moaned, swaying against him, and JC held him tighter, the two of them locked in a slow dance that JC didn't want to end. Although he wouldn't mind a slight change of venue. Forcing himself to pull back, JC took Lance by the hand and led him toward the bed. 

JC started to sit down on the edge of the bed and pull Lance down next to him, but Lance growled and pushed JC onto his back. Lance climbed on top of him, straddling JC's hips, then looked down at JC and smiled. "Do you know what I want to do when I look at you?" 

JC shook his head. Lance looked so strong above him. Strong... and hungry. JC's heart was hammering against his ribs, pounding out desire and anticipation. He didn't know what Lance would say next, but his entire body was waiting to hear it. 

Lance reached for the lowest button on JC's shirt. "When you were dancing tonight. I was watching you move, and you were just so--I don't know-- _sexy_ doesn't even begin to describe it." Lance unbuttoned JC's shirt slowly as he spoke. "I wanted to strip you right there and just... lick your whole body from head to toe, and..." his voice trailed off as he unfastened the top button and pushed the silky fabric apart. JC arched a little under Lance's gaze, and suddenly, before JC even realized Lance had moved, a warm tongue was against his belly, circling his navel, then moving slowly up his ribs and onto his chest. 

"Oh..." JC sighed, twisting up against Lance's mouth. 

"Yeah," Lance replied, panting a little, raising his head from JC's chest to look into his eyes. "I wanted to lick you just like that." Then he lowered his head again and tongued one of JC's nipples while he slid a hand back down JC's body. JC shuddered as Lance's fingers stroked over his stomach and then down lower, closer and closer to his aching cock. When Lance finally cupped his hand around him through the fabric, JC twitched so hard he thought he might just come in his pants. 

JC whimpered. "Lance. Please, I'm so..." 

Lance raised his eyes again, his fingers still moving on JC's dick. "You're so hot. So fucking sexy. Do you know what else I wanted to do?" 

_There's more? I think I'm gonna die just from this..._ JC's tongue wouldn't cooperate when he tried to speak. He shook his head, staring at Lance. 

Somehow, Lance got JC's fly open with one hand, and slipped his fingers inside. JC felt his eyes rolling backwards. 

Lance's whisper was hot in his ear. "What I wanted to do more than anything. I wanted to come back here and get naked, and ask you to fuck me." 

_Fuck me... fuck me..._ The words echoed in JC's head, and he arched up into Lance's touch, moaning as the tension that had been building in him all night spilled over, stars bursting behind his eyelids, his body shuddering as the pleasure rocked him in wave after wave. 

When the room stopped spinning around him, there was a warm mouth licking him clean. JC cleared his throat, a little embarrassed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..." 

Lance looked up, and JC's breath caught again at the sight of him, his lips pink and wet, a shiny smear along his chin as well. "Don't apologize," he said, the words soft and low. "I love gettin' you off." He leaned down to press a soft kiss to JC's hipbone. Then he pushed up onto his knees, shifting to get off the bed. "Don't move," he said. "I gotta go back to my room, just for a minute. I'll be right back, okay?" He actually looked worried, like JC might vanish if Lance so much as blinked. 

JC laughed, a little weakly because his body still wasn't entirely under control again. "I'm not going anywhere," he said. 

Lance smiled. "Okay, good." He headed for the door, taking a cardkey off the narrow table in the entry. "Back in a flash," he said, and then the door closed behind him. 

JC lay still a minute while his pulse slowed. But he couldn't just lie there waiting. He felt stupid, all his clothes on, with his dick hanging out. Getting undressed seemed kind of, well, presumptuous, though. 

He laughed, sitting up. "When did I turn into a girl?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it onto the chair in the corner, then toed his shoes off and padded into the bathroom. _Fuck me_ , he heard again, whispering in his mind, and his cock twitched. He inhaled sharply, shivering in nervous excitement. Did Lance mean it? Probably. It was normal, wasn't it, for Lance and him to... 

"If I actually think the words, 'go all the way,' I'm really in trouble," he told his image in the mirror, blushing a little. He managed to ignore the fact that he had thought exactly that, and was successfully taking a piss standing up when he heard the door open again. 

"Jayce?" 

"In the bathroom." 

"Oh. 'kay." Lance sounded relieved. JC finished up and hesitated only a second before sliding his pants the rest of the way off and walking back out into the bedroom in just his boxers. 

Judging from Lance's smile, it was the right choice. He'd been sitting on the edge of the bed, fiddling with a small case, but when JC came in, he quickly put the bag down on the nightstand and stood, pulling JC into a hug. "You okay?" he asked. 

JC tilted his head, looking into Lance's eyes. "You're here. We're alone. We don't have to be anywhere for--" he glanced at the clock, then grinned when he realized they didn't even have a morning appearance the next day, "more hours than I can count!" He held Lance tighter, brushing a kiss over his cheekbone. "I'm better than okay." 

Lance smiled, looking almost shy. "Me too. Much better." He slipped his hands around JC's waist, then smoothed a path up JC's naked back. 

JC curved his body into the touch, rubbing against Lance, excited by the feel of Lance's clothes against his bare skin. He palmed Lance's hips, his fingers digging into the smooth leather. "Lance," JC whispered, and then their lips touched and they were kissing, holding each other close. The kiss started sweet--lips and breath and gentle tongues--but soon grew hungry. Then, as if their stroking tongues weren't hot enough, Lance fitted his body to JC's and began a slow grind, and the delicious, nasty friction made JC whimper into Lance's mouth. JC was almost embarrassed. He'd come once already, less than fifteen minutes earlier, and he was hard and ready again. 

Lance seemed to approve. He slipped a hand down to the front of JC's boxers, brushing fingers lightly over his throbbing cock, smiling when JC's eyes started to drop closed. "C'mon, baby," Lance whispered, taking JC by the hand and pulling him toward the bed. JC went willingly. 

Not that JC wasn't nervous. He was. If he hadn't been sure what Lance had in mind before--and, really, he probably had been, he just hadn't been _ready_ to be sure--he was now. He couldn't have said what had changed, but there was something new in the room, something... anticipatory. And JC wanted it, too. Right? Why wouldn't he? Sex with Lance. God, sex with Lance. Everything they'd done together so far had been so much better than he ever would have imagined; he was sure this would be no exception. So he didn't have to worry he wouldn't _like_ it. No, that wasn't the problem. 

The problem was... would Lance like it? Sure, Lance knew it was JC's first time with a guy, and he probably wouldn't hold it against him if he wasn't perfect, but... JC really wanted to make it good. He didn't know how many guys Lance had been with, but he knew Lance would be comparing it--him--to those other times. And JC had never even thought about another guy like this until the last four or five days. Although he'd certainly made up for lost time with how much he'd been thinking about Lance since then. 

He felt a nervous giggle rising inside him and swallowed it back down. He had to act relaxed, even if he wasn't. Lance deserved it. 

Lance pushed JC down on the edge of the bed, then without a word pulled up the hem of his own shirt and yanked it off over his head. JC watched, dry-mouthed, as Lance's body came into view. Narrow waist, firm stomach, solid chest. Then Lance crouched to tug off his boots, dropping them to the floor. Finally, standing again, he reached for the laces on his pants, and by the time he had loosened his fly and started peeling the black leather down over his hips, JC was feeling like there was no air left in the room. 

"God," JC whispered. "Lance." He reached out a hand, touching the shallow curve of Lance's hip, and Lance took a step closer, his cock not erect, but full, shifting with his movement. For a second JC was outside himself, looking down, seeing his body, the way he leaned closer to Lance's warmth, to Lance's sex. He didn't recognize what he saw. 

But then he inhaled, breathing in Lance, and leather, and the sense memory of tasting Lance less than an hour before, and JC didn't care what he did or didn't recognize. He pulled Lance to him, kissing the smooth skin next to his navel, opening his mouth to lick and suck, stroking Lance's shaft gently with his palm. 

Lance sighed, a long low purr that ended in something that wasn't quite a moan. "Jayce," he whispered, cupping the back of JC's skull, pressing them closer together. "Are you--I mean, do you..." He stopped, cleared his throat. "I mean. What I said before... will you... do you want to?" 

JC took another breath, steadying himself. Pressed another kiss to Lance's skin, then looked up. "Yeah," he said, nodding. "Will you... show me what to--" He stopped. He knew he shouldn't be embarrassed, but--God, he _should_ know how to do this, shouldn't he? 

Lance wasn't laughing at him, though. He was looking at JC with... JC couldn't quite put a name to Lance's expression, but it wasn't mockery. He was sure of that. Lance turned to the bed and pulled the bedspread down, tugging it all the way off onto the floor when JC stood up. Standing up, of course, put them in the perfect position to kiss some more, and that was something JC definitely knew how to do. With his arms around Lance's warm, bare back, Lance's fingers stroking his temples and back through his hair, JC could relax, could believe that everything would be all right. It was sex. It was Lance. He could do this, and he'd make it good for Lance, for both of them. Lance was hardening against him, fitted close, and JC made himself stop touching Lance just long enough to hook his thumbs into his waistband and slide his boxers down, let them fall on the floor, so he could feel all of Lance against all of him, hot and alive and wonderful. 

"God, Jayce." Lance's voice was rough, and JC thought that if there was one thing about sex with Lance that might have changed him forever, it was that voice, being turned on by Lance's growls instead of a girl's higher register. Lance reached out and folded the sheets back, pulling JC down onto the bed with him, and JC's heart was pounding again, desire and arousal and nerves all mixed together. 

"How, um--" He coughed, feeling himself blush, and thankfully Lance knew what he needed. 

"Just, let's just--" Lance wiggled against him, maneuvering until they were lying on their sides, face to face. "We can do this for a little while first. Okay?" Lance pulled JC toward him for a kiss. 

JC smiled against Lance's lips. Making out with Lance was something he was already good at. The rest... he knew it would be fine, too. It would all be fine. 

They kissed for a few minutes, touching each other gently, smoothing heated skin with trembling fingertips. JC's hand drifted down past Lance's waist, and soon he found himself stroking lazy circles over the swell of Lance's hip. Lance groaned, then twisted a little, pushing closer to JC, moving under his hand, and suddenly JC was brushing his fingers over the silky skin of Lance's ass. 

"Mmmm... yeah," Lance moaned into JC's mouth, wrapping an arm around JC's waist, holding him tight. JC slid his hand farther around Lance's hip, palming one cheek to pull Lance closer against him. Lance practically melted against him, molding his body to JC's, and JC shivered as he felt the now-familiar sensation of dick against dick. JC clutched Lance's ass tighter as sparks exploded behind his eyes. 

_God. We're really going to do this. We really are._

_Oh, yeah._

Breathless, JC pulled back a little to look at Lance. "Um. Should I... uh, how should we...?" 

Lance licked his lips, then smiled, nodding slightly. He propped himself up on one hand and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the bag he'd left there. Unzipping it, he pulled out a small bottle, handing it to JC. "Here," he said. "Okay, you start with your fingers, right? I mean, one at first, and then, y'know... more." He laughed softly, his cheeks coloring. "And, um, there's condoms in there, too, but I guess I don't need to tell you how those work." 

JC laughed too. "No, I think I've got that part down, thanks." 

"I'm really glad to hear that." They grinned at each other, and the tension disappeared, at least for a second. Then Lance shifted over, reaching for a pillow and sliding it under his hips. He cleared his throat. "We can--I mean, we can do it other ways, if you'd rather. But this is, y'know, simple?" 

JC nodded, though Lance wasn't looking at him. "Yeah," he said, suddenly hoarse again. "Simple, that's probably what I'm, um, probably better to start that way, I mean." 

"Okay." JC watched as Lance settled himself, centered on the sheets, his skin rich cream against the white cotton. Supported by the pillow, his ass curved unnaturally high, drawing JC's eyes. Beautiful. Lance's skin was always so perfect. JC didn't think he could remember ever seeing a blemish anywhere on Lance's body except when he nicked himself shaving. 

"Okay," JC echoed, realizing he'd just been sitting silently, not moving. He looked at the bottle in his hand, flipping the cap. Then he snapped it shut again and leaned down to kiss Lance's shoulderblade, lick down the smooth column of his spine. Lance purred, shifting under the touch. "So sexy," JC whispered. "So beautiful." He stroked Lance's skin, the curve of his hip, easing himself back into the place where it was natural for him to be touching Lance's ass, loving that part of him along with the rest of his body. 

Lance made a soft sound, moving slightly again, his legs parting just a little bit. Not a demand; not even a hint, really. Just the faintest, the most natural, expression of desire. _He's being so patient_ , JC thought, and then, _I shouldn't make him wait too long_. Taking a breath, he opened the lube again, spilling some out onto his fingers and rubbing them together, feeling the slick coolness. He let the tip of his index finger fall just below the base of Lance's spine, then drew it lower, gently, trying to read from Lance's reaction whether he was doing it right. 

Lance took an audible breath, his body still for a second, and then he shifted with intent, humping down against the pillow--the muscles of his cheeks tight around JC's finger--before relaxing again, the space between his knees widening a few more inches. 

As Lance relaxed, JC's finger slipped farther down along the path between Lance's cheeks, lube smoothing the way down, down, until his fingertip skimmed against the tight pucker of Lance's anus. JC heard Lance's quiet moan as he gently stroked his finger over and around the little knot of muscle. He'd never touched anyone like this before, but he could tell from Lance's response that it felt good. Lance shifted slightly under his fingers, pushing back and up against JC's hand, a silent request for more contact. 

Then a not-so-silent request. "Jayce..." Lance gasped, "Please--inside?" 

Okay. Okay. He could do this. JC took a deep breath and placed his fingertip square against the opening. Biting his lower lip, he pushed forward gently. 

He hadn't realized he had expectations about how it would feel, but his finger slipped inside more easily than he'd imagined. It was tight, yes, but Lance's muscles gave under the pressure of JC's finger, letting him in. JC pushed harder, twisting a little, until his finger was inside Lance up to the middle knuckle. 

He watched, fascinated, as his finger moved slowly, slickly, into and out of Lance's body, instinctively starting a rhythm that he knew would build and intensify. "Hot," he whispered. He hadn't meant to say it aloud, but Lance was so hot inside, hot and tight around his finger. And soon... soon he would be hot and tight around JC's dick. _God._ JC's erection throbbed, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds, reminding himself to breathe. 

It was almost too much to handle, already: the sight, the sound, the feel of Lance. JC watched as Lance's muscles flexed under his skin, his smooth back shifting along with his hips. JC felt him push down into the pillow, spread his legs wider, and wiggle a little on JC's finger. _What does it feel like?_ JC wondered. He'd never had any interest in finding out, and he still wasn't entirely convinced that had changed, but... Lance seemed to like it. Maybe. Maybe someday. He pressed deeper, automatically responding to Lance's movements. 

"Mmm... 'nother one, huh?" Lance sounded almost drugged, the words coming low and soft. It couldn't feel _that_ good, could it? 

JC nodded, whispered. "Yeah. Yeah. Hang on..." Pulling out of Lance, he uncapped the lube and drizzled more over his fingers. Then he was back, pushing into Lance's body with two fingers this time. As Lance arched his back and pushed his ass up higher on the pillow, JC stroked his other hand along the graceful line of Lance's spine. 

JC worked his fingers in and out slowly, feeling the muscle give a little to accommodate him. This was different, so different from being with a girl, but JC didn't know if that was only because it was a guy, or if it was because it was Lance. He wasn't _trying_ to compare, really, but it was hard not to. It was so familiar in some ways--well, it was _sex_ \--the moans, the touches, the desire hanging heavy in the air, but in other ways it was so new. The intimacy. The vulnerability. It had been a long time since JC had been this worried about making it good for someone else. 

Lance was twisting under him now, energy building in his hips and thighs. "Jayce..." he whispered hoarsely, muffled against the mattress. "Can you... I'm ready..." 

"Oh--" JC's breath caught. "Okay, yeah, um..." He pushed in again, one more time, feeling Lance flex around him, before letting his fingers slip out. And there he was, again, not sure what to do, how to do it. He looked around helplessly, then wiped his slick fingers on the sheet before reaching for the bag and grabbing a condom. 

Lance had made a soft, sad little noise when JC stopped touching him. Now he was rocking a little on the bed, and he was whispering something, but so quietly JC couldn't make out any words. "You okay?" JC asked, reminding himself that yes, he _did_ know how to put a condom on. 

"Mm. Yeah." A breathless giggle. "Better than okay." 

Yeah, duh, that hadn't been the most brilliant question, had it? "Good," JC answered, thinking that maybe less talking would be a smart choice. And then, of course, his mouth went on without consulting his brain. "Um, should I--" He stopped. 

"Hm?" 

Shit. Well, keep going then. "More, um, lube?" He felt stupid saying the word out loud. "Or is the condom enough?" 

"Oh." Lance nodded. "Yeah, more, little more anyway, 's good." 

JC nodded back. _Real romantic,_ he thought. _Could I sound any stupider?_ But he spilled out more of the liquid, spreading it over himself. At least feeling like a tool was keeping him from being in danger of coming too soon. _Small favors._ He wiped his hands again, then touched the back of Lance's thigh, and Lance moved, making room for JC to kneel between his legs. "Okay," JC said. "I'm... Tell me if I'm, y'know..." He pushed his cock down, stroking the tip down the cleft of Lance's ass toward where his fingers had been. 

"Yeah," Lance breathed, his whole body shivering briefly, his back arching up. "Jayce--" 

JC found the notch, the place where Lance's flesh curved. He took a breath, pressed forward. How hard should he push? He had no idea. _Take it easy..._ He leaned, just a little, hoping Lance would guide him, somehow. 

Hot, tight--he was barely inside, _inside Lance_ , not even the whole head, but it was so tight, he didn't know--what to think, what to feel. What to do next. He pressed a little harder, his hips working independently of his brain. 

Lance gasped, his body tightening for a second. "Oh--" 

JC froze. "Shit, I'm sorry, Lance, did I--" 

"No--" Lance's head moved, _No_ , on the sheets. "It's--good. Go on. I was just..." He took a breath. "Been a long time." His lips curved, his muscles gradually relaxing, his body settling back into the mattress. 

JC nodded. "Okay. Okay." He felt paralyzed, though, unsure what to do next, until finally Lance shifted under him, pressing up, and JC could move again. He rocked forward, trying to ease his way in, trying to go slowly. So tight. So _hot_. "Lance," he breathed. 

"Mm?" Almost inaudible. 

"Nothing," JC said. "I mean--you. You feel..." He shook his head, trying to focus. His hands were resting on Lance's hips, smooth warm skin under his fingers, and when he actually _looked_ , looked at Lance's face, eyes closed, lips slightly parted; looked at the elegant curves of Lance's shoulders and back, at the swell of his ass and the place where--God--JC's cock slipped inside of Lance, JC felt heat flush up from his thighs to fill him completely. "So beautiful," he breathed. And he knew as he said it that he didn't just mean Lance's body. They hadn't talked much in the past few days, hadn't really had time, and the sex was so good that when they did have time it was hard to concentrate on talking. So he didn't know what Lance was thinking, what any of this "meant," beyond the obvious. But just then, all his senses focused on the joining of their bodies, JC realized that it was a lot more than the obvious. At least to him. 

JC closed his eyes and dropped his head back, holding Lance's hips in his hands, pushing in slowly. He felt Lance shifting beneath him, spreading his thighs a little wider, bracing himself to meet JC's slow forward motion. Tight, so tight. Almost unbearably tight. JC had never felt anything like it before. Sweat rolled down his temples and the back of his neck as he fought the urge to push harder, faster. He moved as carefully as he could, biting his lip to keep control, trying to pay attention when Lance shuddered or his breathing turned shallow. 

Finally, JC felt his hips come flush with Lance's ass, and he was all the way in. Lance groaned softly. JC's nerves were screaming, wanting to _fuck_ , but he took another breath and focused on just being there, watching Lance, keeping his hips still. 

"Are you..." JC began, then paused. Lance was going to get tired of JC asking if he was okay. He ran his hands over Lance's lower back, stroking gently, feeling the muscles tense beneath his fingers. "Should I--" 

Lance answered with a breathy moan. "Just... stay there... for just a minute. 'kay?" 

"Okay," JC whispered. Sliding his hands higher on Lance's back, he felt the damp sheen of sweat on smooth skin. Lance sighed at his touch. JC leaned forward slowly, still buried deep, and moved his hands up to Lance's shoulders. Lance seemed to settle beneath him, shifting on the pillow under his hips, and JC suddenly needed more contact, wanted to feel Lance's heat against his whole body, wanted to kiss him again. Carefully, JC draped himself over Lance, his chest pressed to Lance's back, his lips against the back of Lance's neck. He ran his hands along Lance's arms, over his slender wrists, and finally laced his fingers between Lance's, so they were holding hands on the bed over Lance's head. 

Lance moaned, and JC thought that sounded like encouragement. Hoped it did. 

JC kissed along Lance's hairline, pressing his lips against the soft, short prickles of hair, wet now with sweat. "Lance, Lance," he murmured against the damp skin of Lance's neck. Then Lance lifted his head and looked back, over his shoulder, offering his mouth to JC. 

"God." JC breathed the word out helplessly. Lance's face was flushed and damp, his eyelashes spiked together with moisture, and JC's heart almost stopped for a second. It couldn't hurt that much, could it? That he'd be crying? Nobody'd want to do this if it hurt that badly--all the other stuff felt so good, why would they? But Lance had asked for this, wanted it... And he was smiling, his fingers twined with JC's. No, it was probably just sweat. Probably... 

JC opened his mouth to ask again, _Are you okay--_ or, worse, _Am I doing this right?--_ and he forced himself to stop. _He knows what he's doing, even if you don't. If he didn't like it, he'd tell you to stop. Just relax, you're acting like an idiot..._ He leaned forward and brushed his lips over Lance's, softly at first, still holding himself back. "Lance," he sighed, licking his way into a kiss, finally letting the desire that was shivering through his body show in the hunger with which he explored Lance's mouth. 

Lance twisted a little under him to compensate for the awkward angle, grunting softly as their bodies shifted, but there was no hesitation in the way he met JC's kiss. Soft, wet heat, the scent of Lance's cologne mixed with clean sweat, Lance's body tight around his cock--JC closed his eyes and let the sensations take over. When he realized he was moving again--they were moving--he wasn't entirely sure how or when it had started, but he knew it was mutual. Lance's hips were rocking, not hard but steady, and when JC propped himself back up on his arms so he could answer the thrusts, Lance's moan was clearly one of pleasure. 

"Lance," JC whispered. "Lance, Lance..." Chanting, keeping the rhythm, giving his mouth something to do so the words in his mind didn't come spilling out. The ones that had been beating at the inside of his skull since he wasn't sure when... 

Maybe later. Not now, not while Lance would have to say it back, say it automatically, whether he meant it or not. Not now. 

JC focused on the feeling of Lance under him, surrounding him, the smooth skin, how hot and slick he was inside. Lance was moving more insistently beneath him now, the muscles in his back flexing as he pushed backwards, catching the rhythm of JC's hips. JC watched, blinking sweat from his eyes, fascinated by the way Lance's body moved. _Better than dancing, fuck yeah._ Slowing a little, JC ran his hands down Lance's sides, coming to rest at his waist, holding him steady for a deeper thrust. 

As JC drove forward, slowly, deliberately, Lance's hips surged back to meet him. "Yeah. Oh, yeah," Lance moaned, his voice breaking slightly as JC bottomed out. "That's... oh, fuck... that's good..." 

"God, Lance..." That voice. JC's body responded to it as if it were a physical thing, his blood fizzing in his veins as if Lance were touching him with the warm, rough tones. JC shifted back, putting more weight onto his knees so that he could better control their motion, the depth of the strokes. Lance growled a protest as JC straightened, but gentled when he felt JC's hands stroking his hips. Then JC pulled out, farther than he had before, until only the head of his cock remained lodged inside Lance. 

His eyes dropped again to the place where he and Lance fit together, where he disappeared into the heat of Lance's body. Lance was sprawled over the pillow, his back sloping down a little to the bed, his thighs spread on either side of JC's hips. The pale skin of his ass was flushed, and JC stroked a thumb over one silky cheek. JC stared at himself, at his cock, at how he and Lance were joined. He thought it was the hottest thing he had ever seen. 

He held himself still for a long moment, trembling. Then Lance's hips hitched back a little, and JC heard an impatient whimper. Lance was waiting. "Sorry, sorry," he whispered, coming back to himself. Leaning forward, balanced on his knees, he took a deep breath to steady himself, then sank down into Lance, deeper than he'd been before, driving towards the mattress. 

JC pushed in slowly, controlling the angle and speed of the thrust. Lance had liked it the first time JC had gone deep, that much had been clear. This time, almost before he started moving he felt Lance lifting beneath him, arching his back, his hips bucking up off the bed to meet him. 

JC's whole body shook with the effort it took to keep pushing steadily, to keep from just plunging in and pumping as hard as he could. Sweat rolled down his face, and his fingers cramped from gripping Lance's hips so hard, but JC clenched his jaw and finished the stroke as deliberately as he had started it. Somewhere in there towards the end, Lance seemed to lose it. Twisting on the bed, he clutched the sheet in his fists and threw his head back. His groan was so loud that it buzzed in JC's chest, in his dick. 

"Oh--oh fuck--" Lance's body was almost vibrating. "Jayce--God-- _yes_ \--" 

JC wasn't sure what he was doing right, but he wasn't going to complain about it. He was running out of self-control anyway, and Lance's reaction seemed to be an invitation to _fuck_. JC jacked his hips back, then forward again, feeling the slide flush heat through his whole body. Again, again, harder and faster, God, so good, and Lance's cheek was mashed hard into the mattress, his mouth open, his whole body arched in what had better be invitation, because JC didn't have much of a choice at this point. 

So tight, so hot, so _amazing_. A random memory flashed through JC's head, something he'd read about some culture--Indians? Turks? Somewhere over there--saying that a man should never have sex with another man because he'd never go back to women. He thought they might be right. He couldn't remember fucking ever feeling this good. 

But then, it was _Lance_. His body was... perfect. Strong and smooth, but soft under JC's fingers, his ass plush where JC's hips were hitting it. _So good._

"God--Jayce--" Lance shuddered again. Untwisting his fingers from the sheets, Lance brought his right hand down, under him, and JC could see the muscles sliding under the smooth skin of his arm as he stroked himself, fast, jerky motions not quite in time with the rhythm of JC's hips. 

_Oh, yeah... Lance needs...needs..._

It didn't much matter. JC's body wasn't listening to his brain anymore. He couldn't stop, couldn't even slow down, couldn't reach around to feel Lance touching himself. Couldn't do anything but watch-- _God, so sexy_ \--and feel the heat gathering in his balls, ready to explode, almost, almost... 

Lance howled when he came, a low animal noise that echoed in JC's ears. His body bucked, once, twice, then arched back in a long, shuddering stretch. Finally Lance went slack, slumping to the mattress so only JC's grip on his hips kept them from coming apart. _Yes--yes--_ JC was still moving, pounding forward, slamming into Lance, so tight, so good, _God, almost there--_

He couldn't stand this another second, had to come, _had_ to, and at the same time he wasn't ready for this to end--he'd never be ready for this to end. Another stroke, another, another, and his body answered the question for him, the orgasm hitting him at the base of his spine and exploding into fiery sparks that seemed to sear him from the inside out, burning his bones to ash. 

When his vision cleared, JC realized his fingers were still clenched in Lance's flesh, his cock still buried to the hilt in Lance's unmoving body. 

God. Oh, _God._ Gathering all of his energy and will power, JC forced himself to let go of Lance's hips. He rubbed clumsily at the marks left by his fingers, then held Lance steady again as he pulled out, slowly. _Oh._ Still so fucking tight it almost hurt. He drew his hips back until he slipped out, then fell to his side on the bed, next to Lance. 

JC lay panting, his eyes half closed, waiting for his brain to start working again. Lance still lay sprawled over the pillow, his face turned away from JC, his back rising and falling as he breathed. They stayed that way for a minute, sharing the space, the silence. 

Finally JC reached down and stripped the condom off, rolling over to drop it into the wastebasket beside the bed. When he turned back, Lance was pulling the messy pillow out from beneath his hips to push it off the other side of the bed. His face was still turned away from JC. 

JC reached out, brushed his fingers over the back of Lance's head, through hair wet with sweat, down his neck, onto his back. He rubbed his palm over Lance's shoulderblade. Lance was hot under his hand. 

"God. Lance. That was..." JC swallowed, unsure of what to say. "That was the most... incredible... " 

Lance shrugged out from under JC's touch, then drew a deep breath before turning to look at JC. "Yeah?" His face was flushed, damp. His voice was breathless. 

"Yeah. I've never..." JC shook his head. _Never felt this way before. Never lost control like that. Never seen you looking so beautiful._

JC didn't know how to say the things he was feeling. Was this what it was like? Sex with guys? He couldn't remember ever having felt that _wild_ before, that out of control. He was a little embarrassed, too; he'd always thought of himself as, well, considerate in bed, but with Lance, he'd just left him to get off on his own. And he'd kept... fucking, really, that was what it was, he'd kept fucking after Lance had come, and he didn't know if that was okay, or not. It scared him a little, that stopping--even _asking_ \--hadn't been an option. But he guessed as long as Lance was okay, and okay with it, it was all right. 

He had about a million questions, but he didn't want to ask Lance if it had been okay, didn't want to feel like even more of a tool than he already did. So he just said it again. "Incredible. Yeah. And I've never..." 

JC trailed off, still unable to finish the sentence without risking saying the completely wrong thing, and after a moment Lance closed his eyes and buried his face in the crook of his elbow with a sigh. "Well, first time for everything, right?" 

JC laughed nervously. Was it so obvious? He knew Lance knew it was his first time, sure. But had it been so evident? 

God, he hoped Lance had enjoyed it as much as he had. It had seemed like he was, the way he'd responded, the way he'd growled and moaned. The way he'd come, loud and wild. It couldn't have been _totally_ bad. But now JC wasn't so sure. In place of the easy closeness they'd had earlier, now Lance was... maybe he was just tired, it was late, maybe JC was worrying too much, but Lance seemed distant, far away somehow. JC wanted to kiss him, but suddenly he was afraid, what if--what if Lance didn't want to kiss him now? 

That was stupid. Why wouldn't he want to? They were... they were. JC wasn't sure what they were, but they were _something_ , weren't they? 

He took a breath. "Lance?" 

"Mm?" Lance didn't move, didn't open his eyes. 

"I'm sorry if--" JC swallowed hard. "I mean. Was it--" He found he couldn't ask the question he'd meant to ask. He turned over, sitting up. "Bathroom," he muttered, even though he didn't need to go. He just needed... to breathe. Lance didn't reply. 

JC closed the door behind him and stood looking in the mirror. Did he look different than he had earlier? He couldn't tell. He brushed his teeth, to have something to do. Then brushed them again. He didn't understand what was wrong with Lance. _Did I fuck up? He knew I didn't know what I was doing, he should've--if I was doing something wrong, he should've said something, I would've stopped... wouldn't I?_ He would've. He wasn't the kind of person who--if Lance had said something-- 

Finally he realized he'd been in there way too long. He flushed the toilet unnecessarily and rinsed his hands, then took a breath and went back out into the bedroom. 

Lance didn't seem to have moved at all. JC thought he might be asleep, and maybe that would be best, maybe in the morning everything would be back to normal. He started to get in the bed carefully, but as soon as his knee touched the mattress Lance shifted, grunting a little, and slid off the other side. Lance made another noise when he stood, but he was facing away from JC and JC couldn't see his expression. 

"Bathroom," Lance said, just as JC had earlier, and JC couldn't really argue. He wondered, suddenly, if what they'd just done had any... repercussions, that way. He lay down, arranging himself stiffly on one side of the mattress, staring up at the ceiling. He heard water running, then silence. The door didn't open. After a few minutes, JC rolled over on his side, closing his eyes. Trying to slow his racing heartbeat. _God, I fucked up, and I don't even know how._ Should he go, knock on the door, see if Lance was okay? _I couldn't have... **hurt** him, could I? _

Just as JC was trying to find the courage to stand up again, the bathroom door opened and Lance came back out. JC cleared his throat. "Lance?" 

Lance made his way back to the bed, walking slowly. "Yeah?" He turned off the light before sitting down. In the sudden darkness, JC felt the bed dip, felt Lance's warmth slide in. 

"You okay?" The words barely made their way out of JC's throat. 

"I'm fine, JC." Lance didn't sound angry. Or sad. Or, really, much of anything. "We'd better get some sleep, huh?" 

"Yeah." No sound, just breath. JC pressed his eyes shut hard against the sting of tears. Lance settled on his side, facing away from JC, without another word, and the room went quiet again. 

JC felt the silence grow between them, not comforting or comfortable, but bloated, heavy. Like something that could suffocate them both. He rubbed his eyes, and the sheets moving against his skin sounded loud and jarring to his ears. He wanted to say something, say anything to fill the emptiness. Even more than that, he wanted to reach out and touch Lance, hold him, kiss him. But Lance... what did Lance want? Maybe he didn't want JC to cling, to hang on him. Maybe he didn't like being close after sex. It was pretty stupid of JC to think that a few days of blow jobs meant he knew everything about Lance, wasn't it? 

Or maybe Lance hadn't really liked it. Hadn't liked what JC had done. JC shuddered. He'd seemed like he had, but... If that was the problem, he wasn't sure he could handle knowing. The thought of it, of how he would feel if Lance were disappointed, scared him so he could hardly breathe. 

Slowly, JC's eyes adjusted to the darkness. He could see Lance's shoulder silhouetted against the dim light from the curtained window. He lay on his side, facing away from JC. Two feet of empty space separated them, but JC thought it might as well have been two miles. 

JC held his breath, listening, trying to tell whether Lance was already asleep or not by the sound of his breathing. He just couldn't tell. All JC could hear was the pounding of his own heart, the pulse beating in his ears like a drum. 

God. What if Lance _hadn't_ liked it? What if it hadn't been as good as other times, what if _JC_ hadn't been as good? The thought wouldn't let go, no matter how hard he tried to push it out of his head. He had to know. He made himself take a breath, made his lips form words. 

"Lance?" JC winced at how tentative his voice sounded, so small in the vast silence of the room. 

Nervously, JC waited. And then waited some more. Lance was probably asleep; he'd said he was tired... But then, just as JC had finally convinced himself that Lance wasn't going to respond--and maybe it was better that way--he heard a soft, low voice from the other side of the bed. 

"Yeah?" Lance sounded sleepy, and JC felt bad for keeping him awake. Especially since he didn't know exactly how to ask this question. 

JC tried to find the right words. This was important, damn it. Maybe the most important conversation he'd ever had. Of course, the more important the conversation, the less likely he'd be able to find the words. 

He was in love with Lance. He knew that now. Not just unconsciously; he'd said the words to himself. Acknowledged them. And he wondered, had to wonder if Lance loved him back. But he couldn't ask that, couldn't ask for it. How could he put a burden like that on someone who'd have to see him every day, work with him every minute? He had to figure out another way to find out... 

"Lance. You said, um, there's a first time for everything?" 

Lance waited, silent, his back to JC. 

"So, like... " God, this was painful. Degrading. And now he wasn't even sure what he wanted to say. "Were you--I mean, your first time--" 

Lance had been still before, but suddenly he seemed to grow quieter. 

"The first time you--I mean--it's none of my business, I guess, but... your first time, were you... in love?" 

JC squeezed his eyes shut. _Oh, so subtle, Chasez._ But it was the best he could do. _He_ was in love. In love with his best friend. 

It took Lance so long to answer that JC thought maybe he _had_ fallen asleep. 

"Yes." Lance's voice sounded tight, like maybe he was tired of talking to JC, tired of being there. Tired of being asked stupid questions that he didn't want to answer, by someone who didn't, couldn't, measure up. 

The jealousy washed over JC, bitter and choking, followed by an even more sickening wave of humiliation. _Of course_ Lance had been in love his first time. JC wondered who it was, who'd been lucky enough to be Lance's first, lucky enough to be loved by Lance, like that. 

"Oh," he forced himself to whisper. "I--yeah. I figured. That--that's good." He bit his lip and tried not to feel anything but the physical pain. "I'm glad. I bet--I bet that makes it better, huh?" 

The silence stretched out again, and any hope JC'd had--hope that maybe Lance would turn to him, maybe he'd laugh, reach for JC, tell him everything was fine, it had been great, there was nothing to worry about--withered and died in the stillness. JC was hoping maybe he could die, too, when Lance finally replied, softly, "Yeah, it does." 

JC gritted his teeth, silently cursing whatever perverse idea had made him start this conversation in the first place. He didn't want to think about Lance's first time with some guy he loved, but now he couldn't help it. God. Who was it, he wondered. 

And as soon as that idea was in his mind, it wouldn't leave. It had to be someone he knew, or at least had heard of. Lance had been 16 when he joined the group. Surely it hadn't been before then. So... who? Lance wouldn't fall in love with some total stranger, so really, when JC thought about it, the list of likely possibilities was pretty limited. 

Not Chris or Justin, he thought right away, and then he thought about it again, putting his own feelings out of the picture as best he could. Chris still seemed unlikely; he and Lance just had nothing in common, except the music, of course, which might be enough, but JC just didn't see it. Justin? He and Lance, the babies of the group. They'd been close; too young to go out clubbing in Europe, they'd stayed alone together a lot. But... no. It didn't feel right. Not Justin. 

Which left one answer. One answer so obvious he should've seen it long ago. 

"Joey." JC's mouth formed the word, but there was no breath behind it, no sound. Joey, always so close to Lance. JC would never have thought Joey would be into guys, but then again, he never would have thought _he_ would have been, either. 

Lance and Joey had been in love. Or... Lance had been in love? Just Lance? JC opened his mouth so his gasp wouldn't be a groan as Joey's voice echoed in his head. _Lance is in love with you..._ Now it made sense. JC had been right not to believe him. It had never been true. Joey was just trying to get out of something that was more than he'd bargained for. Of course Joey loved Lance, just not _that way_. So if he kind of pushed Lance to be interested in JC, and did what he could to get JC to feel the same way... Maybe he'd even been in on getting Chris and Justin to be so annoying, so JC'd ask to switch buses in the first place. Even if he wasn't, he sure didn't complain when JC showed up that day, did he? 

JC thought he was going to throw up. The high of the club, the bliss of touching Lance in the limo, caressing his naked body just, what, an hour or so ago, was gone, and in its place was an abyss so black he didn't know how he'd be able to get up in the morning, get up and smile for the cameras and pretend everything was fine, just fine. He'd been performing for ten years, had gotten through appalling auditions and concerts where nothing worked, but somehow he thought the few days left in this tour were going to make him long for something as simple to laugh off as a lousy mall sound system. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ he told himself, feeling the tears trickle hot and itchy over his face, leaving the pillow damp under him. It had all seemed--felt--so easy. How stupid to think it could stay that way, to think that because Lance had made the first move, Lance would always be the one who would want JC more than--or at least as much as--JC wanted him. 

JC rolled over, turning his back to Lance. He pressed his face into the pillow for a second, trying to keep from making a sound, muffling his breathing in the cool of the pillowcase. He wrapped his arms around himself and closed his eyes. Better just to go to sleep. Maybe things would be better in the morning. Maybe tomorrow, Lance would be back the way he was... before they'd... 

Maybe. 

He didn't know how long it took him to fall asleep. 

But when he woke up to the late morning light falling through the gap in the curtain, Lance was gone. 

* * *


	3. Tools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in Orlando, in need of an intervention. Thank god for Joey. You know what they say: The course of true love never did run smooth.

**Part Three: Tools**

It was good to be home. 

Good to sleep in his own bed, to eat in his own kitchen, to make midnight runs to Wal-Mart whenever he felt like it. 

And most of all, it was good not to have to see Lance all the time, think about Lance every moment. Actually, it was really great to put the whole--whatever it was, whatever he'd had for those five days in New York--behind him. 

Except that he _couldn't_ put it behind him. 

And he _was_ thinking about Lance. And he _missed_ seeing him. 

But still, it was better at home, because he didn't have to leave the house unless he wanted to, didn't have to face the scrutiny of the others, didn't have to pretend nothing was wrong. 

Before long, he knew, nothing _would_ be wrong. He'd get past it, get over it, stop thinking about it all the time. He'd wake up one day and every little thing wouldn't remind him of Lance. What they'd done. What he'd lost. 

He just hoped that day would be soon. 

* * * 

Late one night while he was driving in Orlando, he heard one of the songs they'd danced to at the club in New York, and it all came rushing back. Lance looking so sexy, so confident, dancing like he owned the whole floor. _God_. JC had never seen him so loose, so sure on his feet. It was beautiful. 

JC remembered Lance turning toward him, twisting with the beat of the music, totally unaware of the crowd around him. _Amazing._ JC had been so struck by the change in Lance that he'd asked him about it, shouting to be heard over the pounding beat. 

_"God, Lance, what happened to you?"_

Lance had just smiled and glanced down, then back up, eyes shining. 

_"You did."_

JC turned off the radio. 

* * * 

He knew he was moping. Nursing his hurt feelings. But every time he thought about how Lance had avoided him after that night, he ached all over again. 

He'd woken up alone on Saturday morning, only to find out at breakfast that Lance and Joey had gone shopping together. JC had spent a few lonely hours at the Met, but he hadn't been able to focus on any of his favorite pieces. Even the Tiffany windows had seemed dull to him, for the first time ever. 

When they'd met later, at the basketball game, Lance hadn't even looked at him. JC couldn't keep his eyes off Lance, though, and he'd noticed that Lance was limping. All his worry that maybe he'd _hurt_ Lance had come back to him, and he'd cornered Lance in the locker room, whispering urgently, asking if he was all right. Lance had looked so horrified that JC had stumbled backwards, and by the time he'd recovered, Lance had escaped, rushing past JC to join the other players as they headed out to the court. JC hadn't been able to catch Lance's eye again for the rest of the night. 

The next day had been even worse. He'd gotten on the bus to leave for Pennsylvania, and discovered Justin settling in. Lance had switched, and was riding the three-man bus with Chris and Joey. JC felt defeated. He'd tried to call Lance on his cell, but got his voice mail, and didn't leave a message. Finally he'd just climbed into his bunk and slept all the way to Hershey. 

God, he had to get past it. He couldn't keep feeling like this about Lance, when Lance obviously didn't feel the same way about him. He had to get over it. For the sake of the group. For the sake of their friendship--if there was anything left of that. 

* * * 

The phone was ringing. Again. 

Setting down the book he was reading, JC took a deep breath and looked at the display. Justin. Again. Sighing, he picked up. 

"Hey, man! I've been calling all day! Where've you been?" In the background JC could hear laughter. 

JC shrugged. "Nowhere, J. Around." 

"God, C, cheer up! We're home! The tour's over." 

"Yeah. I noticed that. What do you want?" 

"You don't have to be so snippy." Justin sounded only mildly offended. "Don't you wanna come over? Brit's here, and my mom, and some other people. We're just gonna hang out and swim, then cook out later." 

JC hesitated. They'd been home a week, and he hadn't seen Justin or any of the guys. But. 

"Uh, Justin, who else is coming?" He felt stupid asking such a junior-high question, but he needed to know if Lance was going to be there. Whether that would mean he went or stayed home, he wasn't sure. 

"Well--Brit, Wade, my mom, a couple of my cousins, Chris... I don't know who else. I haven't called Joey or Lance yet." Justin paused, and JC wondered what he was thinking, but when he continued he just said, "Come on, Jayce. You need to get out of the house, I know you, you probably haven't gone out since we got back to town. Plus, we need to plan for your _birthday_." 

JC groaned inwardly. God, his birthday. It was the next day, and he wished he could just forget about it entirely. He didn't think he could handle a party, the way he was feeling right now. "I told you, I don't want a party." 

"Then come over here and make sure we don't plan one for you, man." He heard the grin in Justin's voice. Little weasel. 

JC smiled, despite himself. Justin had always known how to get his own way. 

* * * 

It was a couple of hours later when he finally forced himself to get off the couch and head over to Justin's. By then, the impromptu party was in full swing, with kids playing Marco Polo in the pool and chasing each other on the lawn, dogs barking, and adults sitting around on Justin's deck drinking beer and talking. As JC cut across the yard, he was met with greetings and calls of welcome from all sides. He smiled. Maybe it was good he'd come. 

He grabbed a beer and settled down to talk to Johnny for a few minutes. Not surprisingly, Chris was over by the pool, with the other kids. No sign of Joey or Lance. JC sighed, then reminded himself how glad he was Lance wasn't there, then changed his mind and decided he really didn't care if Lance came or not. 

Justin was a good host, which was funny, considering how self-centered he often was. But even though he was only 19, he liked his house, and being surrounded by friends, so he made an effort to see that everyone was having a good time. After awhile he wandered over to where JC was sitting, alone now, and balanced on the arm of his Adirondack chair. Justin had real Adirondack chairs, of course. Teak ones that cost $500 each. JC still remembered nearly going into shock when he'd heard the price. 

"See, aren't you glad you came?" Justin grinned at JC, handing him a fresh beer. JC set down the old one, which wasn't completely finished, but had gotten warm. 

He leaned back in the chair and squinted up at Justin's face, smiling at the way the late afternoon sunlight made Justin's crazy afro look like a halo. "Yeah, I'm glad. This is nice. It's good to see everyone again." 

Justin nodded sagely. "You should always listen to me, man. I'm always right." 

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far..." JC smiled. 

Justin glanced at the door behind JC and lowered his voice a little. "Hey, have you talked to Lance?" 

JC's stomach tightened. "Lance? Lance is--is he here?" 

"Yeah, he's in the house. I don't know why he came, if he's just gonna sit in there by himself and drink, but whatever." Justin shrugged. "It's just, I was wondering, you know, if you guys had. Um. Worked things out. I guess not, huh?" 

JC looked down at the bottle in his hands. He shook his head quickly, not trusting his voice. When he looked back up at Justin, he was touched to see concern written on his friend's features. 

"Talk to him, man. You gotta work this out." Justin put a hand on his shoulder. "It's only going to get worse if you leave it alone." Then he pushed himself up off the chair and headed over to the grill, leaving JC alone. 

Lance. 

_Here._

What was wrong with him? He hated the way his heart was pounding, the way his stomach was fluttering. Why would he want someone who didn't want him? But he did. 

JC looked around again. Everyone but him seemed to be involved in conversations, playing games, in the pool or congregated over by the grill. And there he was, alone. Alone in the middle of a crowd, as usual. 

Pity party, table for one, he thought. Not the most attractive character trait in the world. He knew--he'd reminded himself at least ten times just that day--how lucky he was, how many people would kill for the chance to trade places with him. He got to do what mattered most to him, every day, and people paid him for it. And all he wanted, right then, was to be able to disappear. Walk out of Justin's beautiful yard, out to the street, to... nowhere. Nothingness. 

_Grow up_ , he told himself. _Get over it. You have to._ He looked down at the bottle in his hands, lifted it and sipped. It was cool, at least, but it didn't make his stomach feel any better. He set the beer on the table next to him and stood up, still unsure of where he was going, but once he was on his feet he knew he couldn't run away anymore. It wouldn't make the problems go away. It never did. Justin was right about that, anyway. 

Taking a breath, he turned toward the house. 

* * * 

Inside it was dark, at least compared with the sun still bouncing off the pool out back. Dark and cool. JC felt strange, prowling around Justin's house by himself, but it wasn't like he didn't know his way around, and besides, Justin had basically told him to. 

The big formal living room was empty, so JC kept going, past the game room and into the video room beyond, where he heard the rustle of fabric against leather. 

"Lance?" His voice came out pretty well, he thought. A little high, but better than it might have. 

Another squeak from the sofa, and then the clink of glass against glass. JC took another step into the room, to where he could see Lance sprawled on the big couch, and his breath caught as the pain hit him again. He swallowed hard. "Hi," he said, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, fighting the urge to bolt for the door. "Justin said you were... he said we should..." He gestured vaguely back the way he'd come. 

"We should...?" Lance said, tilting the glass in his hand and examining the contents closely. "We should what? What exactly does Justin want... us... to do?" Lance drunk--which he very clearly was--sounded almost the same as Lance in bed, JC thought, and he wanted to cry. Exactly the same, actually... except for the disgust dripping from his words. 

JC pulled himself up straight, clenching his fists to keep from chewing on his fingers, and made himself form sentences. "Talk," he said. "He said--we need to--we do need to, Lance, need to talk, need to figure out how to," he swallowed, tasting salt, "get past this." 

Lance laughed, and this time it didn't sound like anything JC had heard from him before. "Get past this," Lance echoed. "Well, fine. I'll drink to that." He raised his glass, draining it and reaching for the bottle all in the same movement. "There. You can go tell my good friend Justin," forming the words carefully, "that we've talked. And that we're _getting past this_. Happy?" 

The words hit JC like a slap, and he had to force himself not to turn and walk--run--away. "Lance. Come on." Somehow he kept the pain out of his voice. "We have to work this out somehow." He took a step toward the sofa. "It's not just about the group. You... you're one of my best friends. I don't want us to lose that." 

Lance put his head back on the sofa and closed his eyes, smiling. Another hollow, mocking laugh. "Yeah. Right. We have to save our friendship." 

JC felt a surge of anger. "Well, we do. No matter how much it--" _How much it hurts..._ He stopped the words before they came out, clinging to the anger to help him choke back tears. _He's being such a prick. So **mean**. Hold that thought. _ "It's not worth losing it over... this... whatever. And if you weren't so stupid _drunk_ , maybe you'd know that too." 

Lance opened one eye and looked over at JC. "Who's drunk?" he muttered. He took another sip of whiskey, then settled back against the leather again with a sigh. When he spoke again, it was almost as if he had forgotten JC was in the room. "'s bad as Joey... wish people would just shut the fuck up and mind their own goddamn business..." 

Why had Justin sent him in here? This obviously wasn't the time to try to talk to Lance. JC doubted Lance would even remember the conversation when he sobered up. But God. Seeing him again, sprawled out on Justin's couch... even tanked, Lance made JC's pulse quicken. Dressed in loose khaki shorts and a golf shirt, a Southern boy's summertime uniform, Lance looked... _lickable_. Lance seemed oblivious to JC's continued presence in the room, so JC blocked the hostile words out of his mind and took a tentative step closer. 

Standing beside the sofa, he looked down at Lance. It wasn't fair. JC'd never even thought about a guy this way before two weeks ago, before Lance--and then, when he did, things had seemed so good. He'd thought, okay, he didn't know what it meant, but he'd deal with it. It was Lance, right? He loved Lance. And so he'd let himself love Lance's body, too, and he'd been surprised at how much he really, really liked that. Did that make him gay? Did it make him bi? He hadn't had time to think much about that. It hadn't even seemed to matter when it had just been _Lance_. 

But now it just wasn't fair. Because Lance didn't want him anymore, didn't want to see him or be around him at all, but JC still wanted Lance so bad that it hurt. And that made him mad, because he had more self-respect than that, to want someone who had made it so clear that he didn't want JC, but reminding himself of that didn't change how he felt whenever he thought about Lance. Which was, he admitted to himself, an awful lot of the time. 

Lance was breathing evenly now, deeply, and JC thought he might actually be asleep. Leaning over slowly, JC lifted the listing glass out of Lance's hand and placed it on the coffee table. Lance started, then settled right back down. JC knew he should leave, walk out of the room, out to his car and home and away from all this until he could get himself together again, but he couldn't make his feet move toward the door. Finally he lowered himself onto the other end of the sofa, legs folded under his body, and settled back to watch Lance sleep. 

The room was so quiet. Just the slow, steady rhythm of Lance's breaths, and the occasional sounds of the party filtered in from outside, faint and faraway. _Not fair,_ JC thought. _Why did you make me want you, change everything in my world and then walk away?_ He realized there were tears dripping off his chin, and he rubbed at them wearily, but Lance's eyes didn't open, so he didn't bother to try to stop. _I wanted to be good for you,_ he told Lance silently. _I wish... I just wish you'd have told me what I was doing wrong._

He didn't even realize he'd reached out until his fingers brushed Lance's calf where it was stretched out toward him. Soft fur, warm skin; an instant of heat, pleasure, the memory of Lance draped naked on top of him--and then Lance jerked away from his touch, eyes blinking blearily, his mouth twisted into a grimace. JC jumped to his feet, feeling the world rocking underneath him. _Things weren't bad enough before? You had to make them worse?_

"Sorry. Sorry." He backed away as Lance shook his head, muttering, and new tears sprang to JC's eyes. _How did this happen? It was so good. It felt so good. Why--?_ "I'm sorry," he whispered again, choking a little on the words. "I'll leave. I'll tell Justin... we talked. Yeah." As if he could face Justin now, or any of them. Blindly, he headed for the door. _That's it. It's over. Don't say anything else. You'll only hate yourself more later if you make even more of a fool of yourself._

He couldn't help it, though. He turned, in the doorway, looking back to see just the top of Lance's head, the sheen of blond glinting above the back of the couch, and the words forced their way out. Easier, when he couldn't see Lance's face. "Lance... do you think..." Oh God, he was sniffling, it was so obvious he was crying; Lance would probably laugh about this forever, but he finished the sentence anyway. It was stupid, but it was the only thing he could think of, the only thing that had been different, that could account for this change. "Do you think, if I'd been... better... in bed, would we, do you think maybe, we could have had a chance? That you could have loved me back?" 

JC thought he managed to swallow the last words, so they weren't audible. He hoped so. Then Lance moved suddenly, making a sound JC thought was intended to be a word, and he wanted to sink into the floor and die. When the noise turned into a snort, Lance's breathing evening out into a snore, JC felt humiliation and relief prickle over him in equal measures. _Good. I said it, and I got it out, and he didn't hear any of it. And I can walk out of here and never, **ever** mention it again. _

Still blind with tears, JC managed to get out of the house without tripping over anything, though as he was stumbling toward the driveway he did--literally--bump into Joey. Scrubbing a hand across his face, JC tried to focus. "You might want to--" he said, gesturing toward the house, his stomach churning with hatred that he knew was unfair. It wasn't Joey's fault Lance loved him and not JC. "Lance. He's pretty drunk, man. You should--give him a ride home, or something." 

He didn't wait for Joey to answer, just bolted for his car. He made it almost halfway home before he had to pull over and throw up. 

* * * 

Later that night, JC was awakened by his own doorbell. Disoriented for a second, he realized he was on his couch. He could hardly remember coming into the house or crashing in the living room, but he knew he must have been asleep for a while, because the sun had gone down. The room was black. 

The doorbell rang again, and JC contemplated ignoring it. He really couldn't think of anyone he felt like seeing. There were no lights on in the house, and whoever it was would surely go away in a minute... But he'd never been good at being rude, and after the third ring he groaned and sat up. Making his way across the living room in the dark, he yelped when he stubbed his toe against a table his decorator had had delivered while he was on tour. How pathetic was it that he couldn't even walk through his own house without hurting himself? 

Still swearing at the new table, he peeked out the window beside the front door. Joey stood on the doorstep, his hand poised to press the doorbell again. 

Joey was the last person JC wanted to see. Okay, well, maybe the next-to-last. But here he was, looking determined, and JC knew he didn't really have a choice in the matter. He sighed, unlocking the door. 

"What's up, Joey?" His voice was still sleep-roughened, and he didn't care. He leaned against the doorjamb with his arms crossed. 

"Hey, JC. Sorry to bother you so late." Joey made a slight move towards the door. "Can I come in?" 

JC didn't want Joey there. He didn't want to talk to Joey, listen to Joey, see Joey, or think about Joey. But he knew none of that was really Joey's fault, and he felt guilty holding it against him. So he stood back and let Joey in without a word. 

* * * 

"I'm worried about him, C." Joey sat on a barstool in JC's kitchen with a beer in front of him on the island. "He's drinking way too much these past few days. When I drove him home from Justin's today, I wasn't even sure he knew it was me." 

JC faced him from across the room, leaning against the edge of the sink. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest. His chin was tucked in as if he were bracing himself for a physical blow. 

"I don't understand why you're telling me this." It took all JC's vocal training to keep his voice quiet and even. "What do you want me to do, Joey?" 

"Just--" Joey made a frustrated gesture, hand open, palm up. "You _know_ this is about you." He waved his hand when JC narrowed his eyes. "No, no, not you. Not what I meant. But it's something to do with what happened with you guys in New York." 

JC gritted his teeth and waited for Joey to continue; he refused to make this easy. 

Joey sighed. "You do care about him, right? Can't you just--" 

JC shook his head, interrupting. "No. I can't." _I tried. God, I tried._ He wasn't going to say that to Joey, though. Not to anyone, but definitely not to Joey. "You and me, we talked in New York, right? You told me not to hurt him." Even to his own ears, JC's laugh sounded as bitter as Lance's. "Believe me, Joey, I couldn't've hurt him even if I'd wanted to. I never knew Lance was... so cold..." JC's stomach knotted again and he breathed carefully, trying to make his mind blank, trying not to remember how Lance had shuddered and pulled away from him that afternoon when JC had dared to touch him. 

When the nausea eased, JC sighed, rubbing a hand across his eyes. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

Joey shook his head. "Lance? You're calling Lance cold? Look at yourself, JC." 

Joey's tone ignited a spark of anger in JC, and he turned toward it in welcome. "What are you talking about, Joey? I'm--you should've seen Lance today--" _No, no, don't go there._ "Don't forget, _you_ were the one who hurt him, not me," he continued, venomous and desperate. " _You_ were the one who didn't love him back." 

" _What?_ " Joey stared at JC. 

JC shivered, wrapping his arms around himself again, for warmth or protection or both. "Don't pretend you don't know, Joey. Maybe you thought I was too dumb to figure it out, but you were wrong about that." JC looked at the floor and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. "I know Lance was in love with you, and you didn't love him, so you tried to get him to be with me instead." 

Joey's jaw dropped so far JC thought it might bounce off the counter in front of him. He shook his head. "What the hell are you talking about?" He really sounded confused, and that made JC even more furious. 

"Don't--don't try to--Joey, can't you just admit it?" JC felt a sob rising in his throat. "You had him, and you didn't even want him. I want... wanted him. I loved him. But he was so..." JC shuddered, remembering the disgust in Lance's voice, in his eyes. 

Joey set his beer on the island and pushed his stool back. He walked slowly around to where JC was standing by the sink, still shaking with pain. Joey stood in front of him. When he spoke, his voice was gentle. "JC. Jayce. Listen to me. There's something wrong here, something fucked up. I can't even get mad about what you're saying, because it's so ridiculous. I don't know how you got the impression that Lance was in love with me, but it's just not true." Joey put a hand on JC's shoulder and gripped it firmly. "Look at me, Jayce. I'm telling you, swear to God, it's never been true." 

JC met Joey's eyes, trying to keep hold of some bit of self-control, but he didn't see anything but honesty looking back at him. Joey pulled JC closer and put an arm around his shoulders in a half hug. JC held back for a second, then gave in and leaned into Joey's strength. God. It wasn't Joey. Joey hadn't been Lance's first. JC didn't know if that made it better or worse, but he believed Joey was telling the truth. 

Joey petted his back for a minute before he spoke again, quietly. "Can you tell me what happened with you and Lance?" 

JC sighed heavily and shrugged against Joey's arm. He didn't have the strength to fight anymore. And if Joey really wasn't... whoever Lance was thinking about, then really, how could telling him make it any worse? "It was... you know, we got together," he began. "Hooked up. We'd been pretending, but then--you guys all knew when it really happened." 

Joey nodded. "Yeah. In New York. I thought... you seemed real happy, both of you." 

"We were just fooling around, I guess, but I thought it was--I don't know-- _real_. It felt real to me. And it seemed like Lance felt the same way. God. I really thought he did." JC bit his lip and closed his eyes for a second. 

"I never liked a guy that way before." JC felt stupid, stating the obvious, but it seemed important that Joey understand. "But I wasn't freaked out. Not much, anyway. It just seemed... natural, being with him. Kissing... touching." He felt heat wash over him at the memories. "I guess I thought that meant we were supposed to be together or something... something stupid like that." His laugh was harsh. 

"So, what happened?" Joey's arm was still around JC's shoulders. 

"Everything seemed okay until the night we all went out to that club. And even that night, I mean, it started off... amazing. Well, you saw, right?" JC forced himself not to think about it, about the club, about the limo. Just keep talking, focus on the words, one after another. "Okay, so after we went back to the hotel, that was the night we, um. You know. Really had sex, for the first time." JC ducked his head. "I thought... well, it seemed good to me. Really good. But Lance..." God, it was too painful to say out loud. JC's eyes stung. 

Joey waited, silent, until JC spoke again. "Well, Lance didn't seem to... enjoy it, much. I mean, I thought he did, but after... I guess... I don't know. Maybe I was too, too rough-" He felt Joey's muscles tighten, but then, if he really _had_ hurt Lance, he'd _want_ Joey to kick his ass, so that was okay. "I mean, I don't think I was, I tried not to be, I just did what he told me--but if it's not that, then I don't know, I guess I just didn't--measure up. Or something." He gulped in a breath, then made himself finish. "He was gone when I woke up in the morning." Actually, Lance had been gone before that, JC thought, but he didn't need to tear himself open with every detail. He'd said enough. "You know the rest. He switched buses. I don't think he's said five words to me since then." 

Joey was quiet another moment, but JC just closed his eyes, let himself breathe. There. It was out, he'd said it. The world hadn't ended. Maybe Joey could make sense of it, maybe he couldn't, but either way, JC figured, he'd just have to keep going. It would hurt less tomorrow, probably. A little less. 

Finally, Joey cleared his throat. His hand stroked down JC's back again, and then he pulled back a little, still standing close enough that JC could feel his warmth, but no longer touching. "Okay," he said softly. "That sounds... messed up. I can understand why you're upset. But, Jayce--" He shifted slightly, and JC opened his eyes. "What do you think Lance expected you to measure up _to_?" 

JC's lips curved; he tried to make it a smile. "Well, I thought it was you," he said, managing a soft chuckle as Joey's eyes widened in realization. "But I guess... I don't know who. Someone pretty special, though." He stopped as his breath caught on the lump in his throat. 

Joey was shaking his head. "Jayce, there isn't anyone else. For Lance, I mean. It's--trust me, I know, I've shared a bus with him for how long? I don't mean to give you a swelled head, man, but I know who he's been crazy about, and it's always been you." 

JC thought he should be out of tears by now. Apparently not, though. He let them splash onto the floor. "I wish you were right, Joey," he whispered. "I wanted... I really wanted it to be real. True love, the whole thing. But like I said, I guess I did something wrong. Or he just realized it wasn't... the way it should be. The way he remembered it being." 

"JC, what are you not hearing?" Joey sounded frustrated; not angry, but confused. "I'm telling you, Lance has never--" 

JC drew himself up straighter, trying to find another reserve of strength. "He has, Joey. Maybe you don't know him as well as you think, but he has." 

"Has... no, Jayce. I mean, maybe-- _maybe_ he slept with someone before, though I seriously doubt it. But I _know_ you're the one he's been in love with. Forever, man." 

JC gritted his teeth. "He _told_ me, Joey." 

Joey just stared. "He told you? He told you what?" 

God. This just got worse and worse. Well, at least it was _private_ humiliation. "He told me. I asked him, after... right after, I mean, he seemed... we were still, um. In bed. But it was like, I felt like something had changed between us, and I was afraid, I didn't know what to say, and I asked--I asked if he'd been in love, his first time. If that made it better. And he, he said yes, Joey. Yes to both. He had been. And it made it better." 

"Uh-huh." Joey gave a wide-eyed, exaggerated nod. " _And_..." He let the word hang between them in the air. 

JC stared at Joey for a moment, startled. Slowly, the pieces of the puzzle started rearranging themselves. 

_Lance... had been in love his first time. He'd said so._

_And Joey said Lance hadn't loved anyone but JC._

He racked his brain. Had Lance actually _said_ he'd done it before that night? Or had JC just assumed it? Lance had seemed so experienced, he'd been able to tell JC exactly what to do, and so JC had just thought... 

But now he remembered how Lance had gasped in shock as JC had entered him, his muscles going rigid, his body telling the truth while his mouth was whispering, "It's just been a long time." 

_Yeah._ A real long time, you big liar. Like, _never_. 

God. _God._ JC didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "Why?" he breathed. If it really _had_ been Lance's first time, then why the hell hadn't he just _told_ JC? Why did it have to be some big secret? Especially since it was JC's first time, too. 

He remembered how miserable he'd been, thinking he had hurt Lance or done something wrong. He shook his head. Why on earth would Lance have let him feel like that, if he really loved him? Why had he been so unapproachable, so cold? 

Joey was still standing there, looking at him. When JC's eyes focused on him again, Joey smiled a little. "Earth to JC..." he prompted. 

JC shook his head. "You really think..." 

"Trust me," Joey said. "Lance... I don't know why he's being--he freaked, obviously, but Jayce, I _know_ how he feels about you." 

JC nodded slowly. "Okay. Okay. I guess maybe... you may be right." He laughed, once, a short burst that he bit back, because he thought it could all too easily turn into more tears. He should feel happier, if it were really true, if Lance really loved him. But right now he just didn't know what to feel. 

Joey was still waiting. "So... you'll talk to him, then?" 

JC shrugged. "I don't know. I mean--yeah, I guess. I don't--" He gestured helplessly. "I think..." he met Joey's concerned eyes, "I need some time to think about this, Joe. I--he really hurt me a lot. If he, if he wants--" He swallowed, nodded. "I'll talk to him. I don't know when, okay? I just--need some time." 

Joey sighed, nodding in return. "Okay, Jayce. Do what you need to do. Just, don't take too long, okay? He's so messed up." 

_What about me_ , JC wanted to ask. But the image of Lance on Justin's couch rose in his mind, Lance barely able to keep his eyes open but still raising the glass to his lips. He winced, unable to say if the pain he was feeling was more for Lance or for himself. "I know," he murmured. "But I'm not the one who made him that way." 

With a sad smile, Joey wrapped his arms around JC again, holding him close a minute before plucking his keys off the counter. "I'll see you tomorrow," he said. "Get some rest. You've got to be in shape for your party." 

JC rolled his eyes. "I don't want--" 

"Since when does that matter around here?" Joey laughed. "You know Chris and Justin wouldn't pass up the chance to celebrate." 

"Justin just _had_ a party." 

"And he's having a bigger one tomorrow." 

JC sighed. "I'll see you tomorrow, Joe. Unless I can get a flight to Switzerland or something." 

"That's the spirit." 

JC let Joey out, then leaned against the door for a minute, trying to figure out what to think, what to feel. Lance was in love with him. Lance was in love with him and had just made the past week fucking _hell_ , for both of them. "I didn't ask to fall in love with an idiot," he said to the empty hallway. "He didn't act like an idiot _before_." He kicked halfheartedly at the wall, and it made his foot hurt, but it also made him feel a little better, so he did it again. "Idiot," he repeated, for good measure. He made his way upstairs to his bedroom, but after sleeping all evening, his eyes wouldn't close once he lay down in his bed. Well, that was okay. He had a lot of thinking to do. 

* * * 

The next morning, JC was up by ten. The bright Orlando sun helped to lighten his mood, and it was easy to smile when his grandmother called to wish him a happy birthday. 

After breakfast, he thought maybe he'd get out of the house; he knew that since the tour he'd been spending too much time alone. But then again, Justin's party the day before had been the first time he'd done anything social, and look how that had ended up... 

He didn't want to think about that now. A few hours of hard thinking the night before had left him feeling a little better. Better than he had in a week, anyway. Not that he'd really figured that much out. Based on what Joey had said, JC was pretty sure Lance was probably feeling as miserable as he was, but he was still angry. He wasn't sure he wanted to be with someone who would treat him like that, who would not only let him feel so bad but actually go out of his way to make him feel worse. At the same time, the idea that they _could_ be together, that Lance didn't hate him, still made his heart beat faster. 

_I should kick his ass... and then make love to him until he can't remember his name._ JC had to laugh at the thought. First of all, because it didn't make much sense, even to him, but second, because he knew chances were his anger would evaporate the minute he got within five feet of Lance. "Which is just wrong," he said to the kitchen cupboards. "He needs to know he can't just act like this. If he can't be honest with me..." He shook his head. 

He thought he could handle talking to Lance, though, and he figured he might get a chance at his birthday party. Not that he _knew_ anything about the party, just that, as Joey'd said, it was sure to happen, whether he wanted it or not. He grinned as he got dressed after his shower, thinking that it really was a pretty nice problem to have--friends who insisted on celebrating your birthday. He didn't know what he'd say to Lance, but he had the rest of the day to figure it out. Of course, then the question would be whether Lance would be sober enough to listen. Well, that wasn't something he could control, so he'd just hope for the best. Gathering his sunglasses and some CDs, he grabbed his car keys and headed for the front door. 

As he opened the door he was trying to remember whether he needed to buy gas, not really paying attention to where he was going, so when he almost bumped into Lance standing on his doorstep he jumped backwards with a gasp. A Sheryl Crow CD slipped out of his hands, bouncing down the stone steps and into the yard. 

Lance was standing close to the door, one hand lifted to the doorbell. He looked as shocked as someone could look while wearing dark glasses and a Yankees cap pulled low over his face. 

"Uh, hey," JC began, just as Lance mumbled, "Hey, um..." 

With an awkward laugh, JC motioned for Lance to continue. "Uh. I was just..." Lance pointed at the doorbell. "You know. I was about to ring." 

"Yeah. Okay." JC nodded. He didn't think his brain was working right. "I didn't hear your car." 

Lance shrugged a little. "I--yeah. I got here, um, a little while ago." He glanced at his watch. "Like, I dunno, fifteen minutes?" 

JC shook his head. "I'm sorry. I thought--the bell was working fine last night..." 

"No, no..." Lance looked embarrassed enough that it was visible even behind the glasses and the hat. "I was just... I was waiting. For... yeah. I was about to ring." 

JC just stared at him. God. How wrong was it that even acting like a first-class tool, Lance _still_ looked good to him? He must be losing his mind. 

Lance shifted from foot to foot. Finally he looked up at JC and asked, "Can I come in?" 

"Oh." JC looked at the keys in his hand, at the car sitting in the driveway, at the jewel case lying splayed on the grass, at Lance. "Yeah. Of course," he said, stepping back to let Lance by. 

JC closed the door carefully behind them, trying to get his thoughts in order--so much for time to think--before taking a steadying breath and turning to face Lance. "So," he said. 

Inside, out of the sun, Lance pulled off the glasses and then examined them a moment, turning them over in his hand before meeting JC's eyes. 

"You look like hell," JC said. Lance did. His coloring was off, his face was drawn, and broken blood vessels marred the thin skin at his temples and under his eyes. All that and JC still wanted him, but he decided he didn't need to share that fact right away. 

Lance looked like he was going to shrug off the comment, but then he sighed. "Yeah. I guess you were right yesterday. About the Jack. I had kind of a rough night." 

JC nodded. "Do you want some water or something?" It wasn't giving in, just basic courtesy, but anyway, Lance shook his head. 

"Thanks. I'm just..." He looked around, searching the walls like he was looking for inspiration. "I came over to apologize," he said, staring at a watercolor JC had gotten in a gallery in Miami soon after the lawsuit had settled. The painting was one of JC's favorites. It had always made him think of flying. 

JC didn't answer until Lance finally turned to look at him. "Apologize for what?" he asked. 

Lance bit his lip. One hand went to his head, lifting the baseball cap and scrubbing at uncharacteristically flattened hair. He coughed, then spoke. "Maybe I should've made a list, huh?" 

God, he looked miserable. JC remembered how Lance had looked at the beginning, when he was the new guy in the group, when he'd always seemed to be one wrong step, one harsh word from crumpling into tears or flight. 

JC also remembered how rarely Lance actually had cried. How he'd gritted his teeth and kept smiling, kept working, until after a few months none of them could imagine *NSYNC being anything but the five of them. Which, when JC thought about it, made Lance's behavior this past week even less forgivable. _You're not weak_ , he thought. _I know how strong you are. You don't have that as an excuse._

When JC didn't say anything, Lance shuffled his feet, looked at the painting again, then back at JC. "I heard what you said yesterday," he said softly. "When... about us. About when we..." 

Oh. 

JC felt himself go red, and the embarrassment made him angry again. "Yeah?" he said. 

Lance nodded. "I--Jayce--" He shook his head. "You--I--" Another pause. "You were... great. Really great. I think. I mean--" He swallowed audibly. 

JC waited, skin still burning, heart pounding. Joey had given him hope, made him start to believe, but if there was going to be any chance, any chance at all, Lance had to tell him himself. 

"I--I'd never," Lance said. "I was waiting. Until... I wanted it to be perfect. To be--to be with someone, with... the right person. I wanted--I only wanted to do it with someone I loved." 

After a moment's silence, JC was about to open his mouth to reply when Lance spoke again, his voice a little stronger. "I only wanted to do it with you. I've--I, back when I, um. Was first figuring out that I was gay. I did stuff with guys, bars and stuff, but I never..." 

JC frowned and bit his lip as Lance's voice trailed off. He watched as Lance grew more uncomfortable. Finally JC spoke, making his voice as cold as he could. 

"Y'know, I could be really mean and dishonest right now and say, _Yeah, it was really **obvious** that was your first time_." He felt a pang as Lance's face began to crumble, but he forced himself to hold on. "That would be kinda like what you did to me. It wouldn't be _true_ , but it would hurt you just as much as if it were. Right?" 

Lance nodded miserably. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, and drew a ragged breath. 

Feeling himself beginning to melt, JC crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw. When he spoke, he struggled to keep his voice low. 

"I don't get it, Lance. If you cared about me--well, first of all, I don't understand why you lied--why you felt like you had to lie to me, make me feel like I was the one who didn't know anything, and it'd be my fault if anything went wrong. But then--more than that, why'd you just-- _disappear_? Why would you do that to someone you cared about, even a little?" 

Lance put a hand over his eyes for a moment, then rubbed it down his face. "It was... God, it was so stupid. I wanted it to happen--wanted _us_ \--wanted things to happen with you, so bad. For so long. I couldn't believe, when we started, when--since that first night, it was like some dream, I couldn't believe it was real. I kept thinking, something's gonna happen, something's gonna go wrong--and we never really talked about... you know." 

JC nodded. "Yeah. We should've talked, you're right, but still, that doesn't explain--I thought everything was..." He took a breath, trying to keep his voice even. "That night, Lance. _You._ I thought... I couldn't believe how good it felt. Not just--" He had to get this out right, make it make sense. "I don't mean just physically. I mean, that was great. Amazing. And I hoped--I wanted it to be good for you, too, and if it wasn't, I'm sorry. But it was--it was great because it was _you_. I thought... I thought it was more than just sex." 

"It was, Jayce--it was, it was great--" 

"Then why did you _leave_?" JC didn't try to stop his voice from rising now. "Jesus, didn't you know, didn't it even matter to you how that would make me feel? What it would make me _think_?" 

Lance closed his eyes, his body sagging. "I guess... I guess I didn't think. I was too--I was so scared, Jayce. I was scared, you'd know, when you looked at me, in the morning, you'd know I hadn't done it before. That I didn't know what I was doing. I guess I flipped out." 

JC shook his head. It didn't make sense. "But, Lance. I'm--look at me--I'm not some groupie that you freaked, someone you need to impress. Who _cares_ if it was your first time? It--that was something we could've _shared_ , not something to hide. I'm your... one of your closest friends. We've practically lived together for five years. Why the hell would you think you had to lie to _me_?" JC frowned again as a new thought hit him. "You've been doing this from the beginning, and I don't understand why. You didn't tell me you were gay, you didn't tell me that you... wanted me. You didn't tell me it was your first time. Why? What have I done that would make you think--I don't know. That I'd reject you? Just for being honest?" 

Lance was shaking his head before JC even finished speaking. "No. No, Jayce, not that. It's... you've always been supportive. Always." Lance paused, looking down. When he looked back up at JC, his eyes were sad. "It's just me. I can't even... I guess the closest I can come to explaining is... Do you remember when I first joined the group? I was so scared you guys would all figure out I wasn't good enough, that I couldn't dance or sing as good as the rest of you, and then you would send me back to Mississippi. And I knew it was true, I _wasn't_ good enough. But I wanted it, so bad. Wanted--everything. To be in the group. To be part of what I could see you guys had, the friendship, all of it." 

JC opened his mouth to speak, but Lance waved his hand and went on. "So I worked really hard to make sure nobody would know--how scared I was, how hard everything was for me. Finally, after a year or so, I worked hard enough--and got lucky enough--that I really felt like I _belonged_." He shook his head. "I guess it felt like that, kinda. 'Cause for the last--God, three years, more than that--I've wanted you... more than anything I'd ever wanted before. That was what--how I felt about you, it was what first made me think I might be gay. Only I never thought. Y'know, that you'd..." Another helpless gesture. "So when things started to happen between us, I was so scared I'd do something to fuck it up and you'd... I dunno, figure out that I was some big faker or that I didn't know what I was doin'... I was crazy, I guess. Things kept happening, kept getting better and better and I couldn't believe it, couldn't let myself believe it, because I knew if-- _when_ you figured things out, I would just... die. So, I guess... I just wanted to hide it, you know, so you wouldn't be disappointed." Lance turned away from JC, toward the door, his head bowed. 

JC was speechless. He couldn't believe that one person could be so _wrong_. JC didn't even know where to begin to set Lance right. Lance thought he hadn't been _good enough_ for the group, for a whole _year_? He'd been one of the strongest singers from his first day in *NSYNC. Being a bass, he didn't get a lot of leads or anything, but his voice--nobody'd ever questioned how well it fit with the rest of them. The dancing had been a challenge for a while, true, but he'd started after the other four had been practicing together for _months_ \--not to mention he was the only one without at least _some_ pro experience coming in. 

The thing that really made JC want to cry, though; cry for the Lance that had been, back in 1996, and maybe for the one standing here today too, was the thought that Lance believed he'd hidden--believed he'd _had_ to hide how scared he'd been. Of course they'd known he was terrified. It had been written all over his face. They'd loved him better for how hard he worked, how dedicated he was. 

The rest of it... well, it was fucked up, but at least it made some sense to JC now. Lance had lied because he was scared. "So," JC said, thinking out loud, "You were scared you'd fuck things up... so you pushed me away just to make sure of it. How--how _stupid_ is that, Lance?" It hurt JC to know that Lance hadn't trusted JC to love him back. But at the same time, understanding it made it easier, and JC felt the bands that had cinched themselves tight across his chest loosen, and suddenly he could breathe again. 

The decision was made without hesitation. JC started to reach out for Lance's shoulder, to turn him back around, but before he could, Lance stepped forward and opened the front door. Sunlight poured into the hallway, and he raised his glasses again, slipping them on. 

Standing in the doorway, Lance spoke again, his voice very small. "So... now you know. How stupid I am. And... the rest. Okay. So bye. I'll--I'll tell the guys I'm sick, so you can have your party tonight without me around. And JC, I'm sorry. I'm really... just so sorry." Without looking back, he stepped out onto the front step. 

JC shook his head. "Where are you going, Lance?" he asked quietly. 

Lance stopped, but didn't turn around. "I don't know," he said. "Away. Does it matter? I--I told you what, I said what I needed to say. That it wasn't your fault, any of it. It was all me, I just... fucked up. Like you said. Stupid." JC could hear the tears in Lance's voice. 

"I thought--I thought you said you loved me." JC kept his voice low, but Lance wasn't that far away. He could hear. 

A soft choked sound. "God, Jayce." Lance sniffled, then turned. "Okay. I guess you're entitled. If you want to hear it again, if you want me to crawl... yeah. I love you." He took the sunglasses in his hand again, and watery green eyes met JC's, not flinching when the tears spilled over and down his cheeks. "I love you, you're the only guy I've ever wanted, and I am so... fucking... sorry I messed things up." He took a breath. "There. Are you happy now?" 

JC couldn't help smiling, hearing the words, even though Lance's pain took away a lot of the joy. "I love you, too," he said. "So, where are you going?" he repeated. 

Lance looked around. "Um?" he said. "I figured..." 

"You figured?" JC shook his head. "You're a smart guy, but you really should stop figuring. You figured I'd give up--something so amazing I can't even believe it, before it's even really gotten started? Just because you're a pinhead sometimes?" 

Lance just stared at him. Not moving closer, but not moving away either. "JC..." 

JC reached out to pull Lance toward him. "Get your ass--your very sexy ass--back in here." Lance came willingly, still looking like he was expecting the joke to be sprung any second. JC took a step backwards, then closed the door behind them before putting his hands to Lance's face and brushing their lips together. "I love you," he whispered. "I am not letting you go, not today and I hope not ever." 

Lance's eyes seemed larger than ever as he looked at JC. "I--" he started, but didn't seem able to get any further. 

JC kissed him again, still softly, letting the warmth of Lance's skin sink deep into his soul. "I'm sorry you've been so scared," he said. "You don't need to be scared." Holding Lance's head gently in his hands, he pulled away, just far enough that they could see each other clearly. "You don't have to be perfect for me to love you." Lance's eyelashes fluttered down. "But you do have to be honest," JC continued seriously. "You are an amazing guy, Lance. I feel... so lucky to be with you. But if you pull this kind of shit again..." 

"No," Lance whispered. "I promise, never again. Never." His hands came up to hold JC by the waist. "God, JC. I thought I'd... I thought it was over." 

JC shook his head and smiled, then leaned to touch Lance's lips with another kiss, sweet and gentle. "No. Nowhere near over. Not if I have anything to say about it, anyway." 

Lance closed his eyes and rested his forehead against JC's. His hands slid slowly around to JC's back to pull them closer together. "Thank you," he breathed. 

JC's smile turned to a laugh, and he hugged Lance close. "Don't forget, I want this as much as you do." They stood there for a minute, holding each other. JC matched his breathing to Lance's and just enjoyed the warmth of Lance's body. "God, you feel so good," he whispered against Lance's neck. He thought he could stay just like that all day, breathing Lance in. 

But they'd been apart a week, and soon JC felt Lance's hips shift against his, the unmistakable heat and hardness of an erection pressing against his own. He pulled back a little and smiled at Lance. 

"So... you wanna... take this somewhere a little more comfortable?" He giggled as Lance smiled back and raised an eyebrow at him. 

"Like where?" Lance asked innocently. It was so good to hear the teasing tone in his voice. 

Reaching behind his own back to grab one of Lance's hands, JC countered, "Is it too early to go back to bed?" 

Lance pretended to consider. JC laced his fingers through Lance's and started pulling him through the hall and into the living room. "Well," Lance said as they started up the stairs, "it's mighty early for bed. But it _is_ your birthday, so I guess you can do whatever you want..." 

JC threw a wicked look over his shoulder and gave Lance's hand a squeeze. "In that case, I _definitely_ want to go back to bed." 

Lance responded with a laugh, and JC thought it was the best thing he'd ever heard. 

When they reached the bedroom, they walked side by side, hand in hand, to stand next to the bed. The room was cool and dim, the midday sun blocked by heavy shutters at the windows. JC turned to Lance and kissed him, soft and gentle and slow, opening his mouth slightly against Lance's lips. So good. So good. He traced the curve of Lance's lower lip with his tongue, then pulled back just far enough to look into Lance's eyes. "We don't have to, um... do anything," he said. "I mean, if you just want to, you know, get some sleep or something." He ran a gentle finger down Lance's jaw. "You looked pretty thrashed when you got here." 

The corners of Lance's mouth quirked up. "Yeah, but my day's taken a sudden turn for the better." He mouthed the sensitive skin below JC's ear, and JC shivered. "I can sleep later," Lance said. "You're the best hangover cure I've ever seen. Or," moving his mouth to JC's, "tasted." JC responded willingly, the kiss deepening, and JC felt a moan start in his own throat and finish--an octave deeper--in Lance's. 

"Yes," JC breathed. "God, I've missed this. Missed you." 

Lance nodded, his mouth moving on JC's jaw, his hands skimming down JC's sides, down to rest at his hips, holding him close as they rocked against each other. JC twisted against him, needing more, slipping his hands under Lance's shirt and sliding the fabric up to bare soft skin. Lance raised his arms to help get the shirt over his head, then went to work on JC's jeans. In moments they were both naked, tumbling onto the bed, kissing and licking. "You sure you're okay?" JC asked, still worried, but Lance's eager nod put his concerns to rest. 

For a little while they simply reveled in each other, playing and laughing as they touched. Then JC pushed Lance down on his back and climbed on top of him, straddling Lance's waist. Weaving their fingers together, he held Lance's hands above his head on the bed and kissed him thoroughly, whispering _mine, mine_ between kisses. Then, still holding Lance captive, he licked his way down Lance's neck, over the bump of his Adam's apple, to bite gently at the base of his throat. Lance arched up into JC's body and then, with a growl, flipped them over. JC laughed, pretending to struggle beneath Lance, loving the feel of Lance's body covering his. In retaliation, Lance pinned him to the bed by his shoulders and kissed him until JC was out of breath and his head was spinning. 

When Lance moved to the side, kissing his way down JC's chest and stomach, JC gave about half a second's thought to trying to slow things down. And then Lance's mouth closed around him, leaving him gasping, shuddering with pleasure. A week apart and it felt like a million years; felt like no time at all. Lance's lips, Lance's tongue, Lance's hands worked on him as if the world depended on JC coming now, coming hard, blind and incoherent with ecstasy. 

JC drifted back to reality to the feel of Lance's lips pressing soft patterns into his ribcage. JC raised one hand and stroked Lance's hair, groaning softly. 

"Jayce," Lance murmured, arching into the touch, his erection bumping slickly against JC's leg. "Love you. Thank you." 

JC laughed, soft and low. "Thank _you_." His body was still buzzing with pleasure. "C'mon up, wanna... wanna kiss you... 'mong other things..." 

Lance smiled, his lips curving against JC's chest, and he started the journey back up, apparently determined not to miss a single inch of skin on the way. By the time their mouths met, JC was shifting against the sheets, halfway hard again, and greedy for the feel of Lance's cock in his hand or his mouth. Or... 

He smiled, licking at Lance's lips, running his fingers lightly over hot smooth skin. "Lance," he whispered. "Lance..." 

"Mmm?" Lance looked at him, eyes half-shut with pleasure. 

JC felt his heart speed up, but he wanted this, it felt right, even though as he said the words he knew he was also a little bit afraid. "Make love to me?" He hadn't meant for it to be a question, so he said it again. "Make love to me." 

Lance froze. He pulled back just an inch or two, his eyes opened wide, dark with desire but also showing a trace of fear. 

"Lance?" JC held his breath. 

Lance swallowed, his fingers stroking JC's hair back from his face. "Jayce," he said. "I..." He took a breath. "I... God. Yes. You want... me...?" The tip of his tongue slipped out, wetting his lips, and JC wanted to kiss it, wanted... _wanted_. Lance nodded. "Okay. Yes. I don't deserve--God. Um." 

JC couldn't help it; he laughed, leaning up to kiss the corner of Lance's mouth to soften the sting. "I didn't mean for this to be, um, a problem..." 

Lance shook his head. "It isn't. I mean, I want--I just--" He laughed once, softly. "Okay. This is it. It's like I said downstairs. I, uh, fooled around with a few guys here and there, like, some, but I never... had sex with a guy before we did it the other night. I mean, I never did it the other way, either. You know, me doing it to someone else." He spoke the words quickly, all in one breath, and then looked at JC as if waiting for judgment or penalty. 

JC nodded. He'd sort of guessed, but at the same time he hadn't been sure. He cupped one hand to the back of Lance's skull and pulled them closer together. Tilting his head slightly, he fitted his mouth to Lance's in a slow, deep kiss. When they parted, Lance was flushed. "I just, I wanted you to know," he said. "Because I'm not going to lie to you anymore." 

"I know you're not," JC answered. "So... like you said, there's a first time for everything, right?" 

As soon as the words were out, JC wanted to take them back, wanted to do anything but remind Lance of everything that had gone wrong between them. But while Lance's smile faltered for a second, he just nodded. "Yeah," he said softly. "Okay. I--I'll do my best, okay? I mean--" He blushed a deeper shade of red. "I, um. Read stuff. I think--I mean--I'll try to make it good for you." 

JC smiled. "I know." He shivered, anticipation mixing with nerves. "Um. Okay, so... what do I do?" 

Lance's lips brushed over his. "Just relax," he whispered. JC opened his mouth against Lance's, licking his way into a kiss, feeling their bodies fit together, warmth to warmth. JC's pulse was beating in his throat and he thought he could feel Lance's, too, a comforting counterpoint even if it was only his imagination. This was right. This worked. JC sighed, shifting under Lance, thinking that if this was how 24 started, it might be a very good year. 

They moved together, Lance's body blanketing JC's, kissing and touching, until Lance's thrusts against JC's hip started to grow more urgent again. JC smiled, his hands stroking over the curve of Lance's ass. "Do you wanna?" he asked. "You don't have to. I mean--" 

Lance groaned, shuddering under JC's touch. "God. Yes. I want to." He shut his eyes tight a second, then rolled away, fast, all in one movement like if he did it slow he might not make it. "Okay. You've, um--" 

"Condoms?" JC asked. "Nightstand," he said, pointing. 

Lance nodded, pulling out the drawer. "Good, figured you'd be--" He laughed, suddenly, an open happy sound. "You know, I had--the stuff, the lube and all, that night? I'd been carrying that around, um, ever since... ever since we first started sharing a room." He dropped his eyes a moment, then chuckled again. "I didn't really expect, I just--just in case, you know? But I gotta admit, I didn't bring anything with me today." 

JC grinned. "Um. I don't have, um, official--I," he felt himself blushing and rolled his eyes. Pretty silly time to get shy. "I just use lotion, y'know, for--will that be okay? It's really nice, it's almond--" 

Lance laughed. "Oh, good. Because, y'know, Jayce, it's important that your ass smell like, what, Aveda?" 

JC giggled. "It's, um. This special stuff I order from Australia. And it's not like I bought it with this in mind..." 

Lance grinned at him. "I bet it'll be the most expensive lube ever. But I guess since it's your birthday and all..." 

Smiling up at Lance, JC thought how different it felt between them now. He couldn't remember the two of them ever having laughed so much in bed before. Or talked, for that matter. 

He liked it. 

Lance found the condoms and the lotion and dropped them on the bed. Then he sat back on his heels and looked nervously at JC. "Okay. If you want, we can do it the way we did before, but switched, like, you can lie on your stomach and I can be on top." 

JC nodded. "The simple way." 

Lance grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, so I read." He shook his head as if laughing at himself. 

"Where'd you read about this stuff, anyway?" JC asked, curious. 

Rolling his eyes, Lance mumbled, "The Internet, where else?" 

JC had to laugh at that. "You mean all those times we were sitting at the table on the bus, and I thought you were working on _business_ , you were really looking up how to..." 

"No! No," Lance laughed, "God, no. I wouldn't have been able to look you in the eye. Or keep from blushing." 

JC reached out and stroked Lance's knee. "I like it when you blush." He smiled up at Lance, who immediately flushed pink. 

"Well, that's a good thing, I guess," Lance grinned. Then he switched back into logistical mode. "Anyway. I read that face down is the easiest position for the first time. So unless you wanna try something else, that's probably the best way. And I have to say, it felt really good when you did it to me." 

JC smiled. "I'm glad." 

A worried look crossed Lance's face. "You might be, um, a little... sore... after. I think that can happen no matter which position you use. It's not that bad, but I'll be extra careful. Okay?" 

JC sighed, then reached up and hooked his hand around the back of Lance's neck, pulling him down so they were face to face. "Okay, Lance. Quit stalling." JC leaned up and kissed him. "Everything's gonna be okay. I _want_ you to do this. And remember what you said... it's my birthday, and I should be able to do whatever I want. Assuming you want this too, of course." 

Lance nodded, wide-eyed. 

"Good," JC said. He kissed Lance again, then let him go and turned over, reaching for a pillow. "So, what, you just put it under here?" 

Lance helped JC position the pillow under his hips, and JC settled down on top of it, rocking a little, trying to relax. He spread his legs slightly, then twisted around to look over his shoulder at Lance. "Do I look as stupid as I feel?" 

He heard Lance swallow, but nothing else for a long moment. Then, "No," came the whispered response. "No, Jayce. God. You look..." A long inhalation. 

JC's skin flushed with heat as he remembered how Lance had looked on that bed in the hotel. Beautiful. Hungry. He lay his face down on the mattress again, trying not to compare. His body wasn't lush like Lance's, not as curved. No ass to speak of at all, really. But Lance didn't seem to be complaining. And when Lance's fingers stroked delicately down from JC's waist, the love in his touch was so evident that JC stopped worrying about how he looked, and just let the happiness expand inside him, melting the tension and the fear. 

"Yeah," Lance breathed. "That's good, just relax." The bed shifted and then Lance was kneeling between his legs, kissing down the column of his spine, warm breath and moist tongue raising prickles of pleasure on his skin. Lance's words were hard to hear, but JC made out "beautiful," "love," "lucky," and he thought his heart might burst. 

Then Lance's mouth moved lower, Lance's hands spreading him, and JC nearly jumped off the bed in reaction. "Jesus!" 

"Jayce? Did I hurt you?" 

"What?" JC shivered. Lance's tongue had felt... shocking. Alien. But not bad, no. "No--no, I'm--oh, shit, did I kick you?" He'd felt his heel connect with something. 

"Nah, I'm okay." Lance's laugh was soft, almost a purr. "Is--is it okay if I do that?" 

JC felt himself blush, kept his face flat against the sheets in the hopes of hiding it. "Is--yeah. Is that, um... You didn't tell me to do that." 

"No, it's not... Um. Not everybody does--it's not, y'know. Necessary. But I read... it's supposed to... does it feel good?" 

JC tried to get his heart to slow down to somewhere near normal. "It's... I wasn't expecting it." He tried to relax his body again. Lance was talking to him. They were talking. About what felt good, about what they wanted. Being honest, not playing games. It was almost too much to believe. "If you want..." He settled back onto the pillow, letting his legs fall open. "I--everything you do feels so good. I don't... I don't know what to expect." 

"'s okay," Lance whispered, leaning down to kiss JC's waist. "We'll learn together. Right?" 

"Yeah," JC breathed. 

Lance licked his way down, slower this time, tongue gradually drawing trails of cool fire from the base of JC's spine to the spot JC still couldn't believe Lance was putting his mouth. But JC steadied his breathing, focusing on the sensation instead of the idea, and when Lance's tongue teased slick circles, then stripes, over his skin, he felt himself start to respond. And then Lance took a breath--JC could feel it, the cool rush of air over wet skin--and the tip of his tongue probed inside. 

"Oh..." JC held himself very still. He still didn't know exactly what he was feeling. It was... interesting. And, yes, arousing. As his body relaxed, the shock, the--well, _dirtiness_ of it, of the idea--combined with the way Lance was acting, like it was some great prize he'd won, to be able to do this; all of it melded together into a heady rush that bubbled through JC like champagne. 

When Lance licked lower, slicking his tongue down to lap at JC's balls and then back up again, JC found himself shifting on the pillow, pressing his aching erection into the too-soft cotton and spreading his legs wider. "Lance, oh..." he whimpered, as Lance swirled his tongue up, around, and back down again. 

And as Lance came back up and pressed inside once more, it seemed as though a switch had flipped in JC's body and it wasn't _interesting_ anymore, it was... hot, and ticklish, and dirty, and _God_ , unbearably sweet. JC dug his fingers into the sheets beneath him and held on, eyes shut tight, mouth open and moaning into the mattress. Images flashed through his head: Lance licking his lips, the barest hint of his pink tongue, his tongue that was on, no, _in_ JC right now. Then JC saw himself, as if from above, spread out face down over the bed with Lance between his legs, Lance holding him open and kissing him _there_... JC had never even thought... that you could... that you might want to... but _Lance_ , Lance was doing it and JC was loving it. _Loving_ it. 

_God._ How was he ever going to recover from _this_? 

He wanted to tell Lance, tell him how amazing it was, but getting the message from his brain to his mouth was much harder than it should have been, and he ended up making a noise that probably just sounded like a groan, but he hoped Lance understood. Because he really, really meant it. 

Finally, just when JC was about to swear that he couldn't take another moment of this delicious torture, or maybe beg Lance never to stop, he felt Lance shifting behind him, kneeling up on the bed. A second later JC smelled almonds, and then there was the unmistakable sensation of a fingertip slipping over him, stroking gently over and around, and finally sliding slowly inside. 

JC felt his body tense slightly at the pressure, and somewhere in his head he was surprised that something as small as a finger could feel so _big_. It didn't feel bad, but it wasn't what JC had expected. Then Lance stroked his other hand up along JC's spine, warm and smooth, and whispered, "Jayce, are you okay? Is this...?" and JC sighed, and relaxed, and smiled against the mattress. 

"Yeah..." he breathed, and somewhere between the question and the answer it became true; the strangeness passing, being replaced by renewed need. "Good," he panted, amazed that he could even talk, considering how Lance's finger was slowly twisting deeper into him. 

"I'll be careful." Lance's voice was low, soothing, with an undercurrent of concern. "I don't want to hurt you. Tell me--tell me if you want me to stop, okay? It's okay, if you change your mind, or--whatever. I--" 

JC wanted to tell him he should stop worrying so much, but he didn't think he could get that many words out in a row. "Lance," he managed, and arched up, hoping his body could speak for him. 

He felt Lance freeze, uncertain for another interminable second, and then-- _yes_ \--Lance's hand braced against him, meeting his thrust, sliding deeper. Lance groaned, the rumble vibrating into JC's bones. "God," Lance breathed. "You are... so beautiful. So sexy. If you could see..." 

JC laughed, only it came out sort of a giddy giggle, half muffled by the mattress. He didn't think he wanted to know how he looked, really. And even if he had, there were much more important things to think about. Like the way Lance's left hand was caressing him, petting down his back like he was a cat or something, while that finger eased further in, moving gently, sparking a kind of desire JC still didn't fully understand. "More," he asked, knowing it was what he wanted, even if he didn't know how or why. 

"So sexy..." Lance pressed further, sweet slick friction, and JC was gathering himself to moan, to arch higher, to beg, when Lance's fingertip hit-- _something_ \--and JC vaguely heard himself yell as electricity jolted up his spine and through his whole body. 

"Jayce?" 

No. No, Lance shouldn't sound worried. Worried might mean he'd stop. JC tried to think of something to say, but there were still sparks flashing behind his eyes. Nothing--he'd never felt anything like that. Never imagined it. He made some sound, some needy, desperate noise, his hands scrabbling against the sheets as he tried instinctively to get his knees under him, lift himself up, back, _more_. 

And, thank God, Lance seemed to understand, because he rocked his finger again, pressing, and JC moaned, helpless, his body shuddering with wave after wave of white-hot pleasure. And then Lance did it again, and again, and JC felt himself slipping over the edge. 

Somewhere in the back of his head, JC knew that there was some reason not to come yet, not to finish, but his entire body was screaming _go, go, go_ and his hips were pushing up, back, and Lance was whispering "Aw, yeah, baby," and sliding his finger, just that _one finger_ , down and down and down into JC, and suddenly it didn't _matter_ anymore whether he was supposed to come yet. He just met Lance's thrust and then humped down into the pillow, feeling his hips take over, muscles jerking and twitching as he wailed into the mattress. The sparks in his head were like fireworks, he thought vaguely, and then he wasn't thinking anymore and his body was out of his control, but that was okay, because Lance was there to hold him, and hold him down, so he didn't just float right up off the bed and fly away. 

When he came back down, Lance was lying beside him, stroking his back and his ass with one warm hand and whispering into his ear, "Love you, Jayce. Love you." JC gathered up all his energy and turned his head so he could smile at Lance and present his mouth for a kiss. Lance seemed happy to oblige. 

"Lance..." he panted, and blinked his eyes a few times to try to focus. He wanted to tell Lance this amazing secret, as soon as he could get his mouth and his brain to work right again. "Lance," he tried again, a few seconds later, "God, there's something... What did you do? It was..." He searched for the right word, but his vocabulary seemed to have been washed away. Feeling his way through the giddy daze inside his head, he dug a little deeper and found something that would work. "Magic. It was magic." He heard the wonder in his own voice. 

Lance's smile lit his whole face. "It was pretty amazing from this side, too." His lips brushed over JC's cheek, up to his temple. "I guess... I didn't have to worry about you not liking it, huh?" 

JC laughed, still feeling tremors shock their way through him, tingling out to his fingertips. "'Like' isn't even in the same _galaxy_. God. Is--does everybody--did it feel that--when I, um--" 

"When you were in me?" 

JC nodded, wishing he didn't have to fear the reference might spoil the mood, but too blissfully relaxed to worry about it much. Lance's expression clouded for only a split second. "It felt great," Lance said. "It was... you were amazing. It's just..." He bit his lip, then continued. "I think I, um, maybe rushed things a little. That night." 

JC shifted, his body starting to come back under his control enough that lying on his side was possible. He tugged the sticky pillow out from under him and pushed it off onto the floor. "I--I wish you'd told me. I hate knowing--I hurt you, didn't I?" He touched Lance's face, caressing, a silent apology. 

Lance shook his head. "It wasn't your fault. And it didn't--it only hurt at first. Then it just felt... so good." He tilted his cheek into JC's touch. "I wanted it, JC. Wanted _you_. And it was really good. I mean, it was--great." 

JC shook his head. "It can't have been. Not like--this was--God. Just--and you didn't even--" He stopped as a little more brain function returned. "You didn't..." He reached down, finding--as he'd just realized--Lance still hard, jumping under his touch. "Shit, I'm sorry..." 

"No--" Part word, part gasp, Lance's body twisting to meet him. "Don't be. Jayce. You--I nearly came just touching you, watching you." JC's fingers slid, stroked, light on sensitive skin. 

"But you didn't. Let me. I--what do you want, let me suck you, or--" JC felt his skin prickle with embarrassment and desire. "Would you, is it--could you, um." He rolled his hips, his body already heating at the thought of having Lance inside him, filling him, more than before; he couldn't really imagine how it could be better, but he knew it would be. "Could we try again? I'll try not to... y'know, get quite so..." 

Lance bucked into JC's hand, and JC could see Lance's eyes dilate, black drowning out the green. "You want--? Um-- _yes_?" He laughed, leaning forward to lick at JC's mouth. "But don't--God, don't apologize for--I loved it, loved watching you, hearing you... feeling you. It was amazing." 

"I bet it'll be even more amazing with you--with this--" JC squeezed, deepening the kiss. "Lance," he mumbled, "I want you. In me. Please." The more he thought about it, the more his body responded, his cock pulsing, an ache starting to build inside him that cried out for Lance's touch. JC broke the kiss, groaning, flattening himself out again on the bed. "Please," he repeated. "In me, please." 

JC heard Lance draw a sharp breath. "Yeah. Yeah. Okay," Lance said softly, then he sat up and moved behind JC again, nudging JC's legs apart by running a hand up his thigh. JC shivered at the light touch, and shifted so that Lance could kneel between his legs. 

This time when Lance's finger slipped inside him, JC found himself relaxing and pushing up to meet it. JC sighed as it entered him, slick lotion giving a smooth glide to the motion of Lance's hand. After just a minute Lance pulled back again, and then JC moaned as two of Lance's fingers twisted slowly down into him. God. How could this feel so _good_? 

Lance wasn't pushing deep this time, and JC didn't try to make him, even though his body was aching for more, for that touch that he'd felt before. He wanted to hold back, let Lance get inside... JC remembered how it had been, in New York--the heat, the tightness of Lance's body surrounding him, how incredible he'd felt--and he hoped that it would feel the same to Lance, that it would feel that good. 

When Lance added a third finger, JC gasped against the sheet. "God, Lance..." he whispered, "C'mon... I'm ready. Please. I am." 

Lance laughed gently, keeping up the slow in-and-out motion of his fingers. "It's okay, darlin'. Just a second. I just wanna make sure..." 

JC hitched his hips back to meet Lance's hand, turning his head to say over his shoulder, "I'm sure... Lance, please. I need you inside me now." He bit his lip to try to stop himself from begging. Please. Please. _Now._

Finally Lance's fingers slipped out of him, and JC heard the sound of a condom wrapper. Breathless, he waited for Lance's touch, opening his legs a little wider, unmindful at last of how he must look. Just waiting... wanting... leaving himself open and willing, for Lance. 

Then he felt a trembling hand, hot against the small of his back, Lance stroking him for a moment and then pressing down gently, holding JC steady. The bed shook a little as Lance shifted closer, on his knees, and a second later JC felt the smooth, blunt head of Lance's cock slipping down between his cheeks. JC's breath caught in his throat as Lance guided himself down and rested the head against JC, against that place he'd kissed and loved and stroked just a few minutes earlier. 

JC brought his hands up under his shoulders, pressing them down against the bed, pushing himself back against Lance as he waited. "Lance. Please... love me now..." 

Lance shuddered, growling low in his throat. "I've--" his voice was choked, "loved you for--seems like forever." He took a rasping breath. "Now--gonna--" He eased forward, a slow lean, and JC gasped, _so big_. "Gonna... fuck..." The last word trailed off into another groan, and JC just nodded, his head bobbing helplessly, his heart pounding as he willed himself to breathe, relax, _open_. 

"Yeah," JC sighed. "'s good, fuck--fuck me--" He knew, his body knew, or at least _believed_. It was what he wanted, what he needed. _So big_. His breath caught as Lance pushed in, slowly, and part of him was screaming _faster_ at the same time his muscles were working to adjust. 

"God... so... tight..." Lance sounded like he was praying. 

JC closed his eyes. He wanted to see Lance, see the expression on his face. It made sense, doing it like this, but he also felt like he was missing something important, that connection. With his eyes closed, he could imagine, at least. "Yeah," he said, "talk to me. Just--tell me--what you're feeling... You feel so good, Lance. So good inside me. I want you. Want..." 

"Want _you_ ," Lance panted. "Just tryin'... not to come before... even get in." He laughed, a short, strained sound, and JC nodded again. 

"Okay, okay--" Deliberately, JC relaxed his shoulders, his back, moaning a little as he settled back onto the mattress. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as Lance's weight followed him down, sinking onto him, into him, more and more and _full_ and it was everything, everything. "Oh, God," JC sighed when he felt Lance's hips nudge his ass. 

"You okay?" Lance whispered. 

JC nodded, the sheets sliding under his cheek. "Please..." He arched up, just a little, helplessly asking for what his body needed, and then he gasped as Lance met his movement with one of his own. " _Yes--_ " 

"God--" JC felt warm lips brush between his shoulderblades, and then Lance was moving, finally, short strokes, easing out barely far enough for any friction at all, then bumping forward again, testing, learning. "'sat good?" 

"All--so good--" JC rocked a little, and then Lance's hand slipped under him, arm coming around his waist and pulling them both up. Shifting how they fit together. Yes, that was good, that was better than good. Lance steadied him, moving inside him, and yes, there, right there-- _yes_ \--JC moaned, the fireworks starting again, his body trembling as he anticipated and reacted to each stroke. He bowed his forehead to the mattress, eyes closed, ass unashamedly in the air, and mumbled words of thanks as Lance gave him what he wanted, what he'd imagined, better than he'd dreamed. 

* * * 

They lay tangled on the bed, sticky where they touched, JC draped half over Lance's body, Lance's hand cupping the back of JC's head. JC pressed his face to Lance's shoulder, breathing him in, lips nuzzling against sweat-damp skin. He smiled as Lance sighed and shifted under him. 

It felt so good. All of it had felt just... so _good_ : Lance inside him, finally, _finally_ , gentle at first, then pulling him up by the hips and just _fucking_ him until JC had come, thrashing, yelling, practically bouncing them both off the bed. Two more thrusts and Lance was coming too, his groan echoing through JC's bones. Then they had collapsed, panting into each other's mouths as they kissed, still hungry, still wild. 

Later, when JC had knelt above Lance, buried deep and thrusting slowly, he'd looked down into Lance's love-filled eyes and whispered, "Thank you." Reaching down to stroke Lance in time with his own thrusts, JC had known he'd been right about wanting to see Lance's face. His open, trusting look erased so much of the awkwardness and hurt from the memory of their first time together. Lance had smiled up at JC as they came, their hips rocking in perfect counterpoint, and then he'd reached out to catch JC when he fell exhausted to the mattress. 

And now, even while they rested, dozing, they remained close, touching, fingers and legs twined together. JC closed his eyes in gratitude, amazed at how things could change in only 24 hours. They were being given a second chance: a chance to start over, learn together, make things right. It was, he thought as he drifted off, the best birthday gift ever. 

* * * 

When JC woke again, it was to the sound of his doorbell ringing. Repeatedly. God. What time was it? He had to lean up, over Lance, to see the clock beside the bed. 8:54. Lance shifted beneath him, looping an arm around JC's waist, pulling him down to kiss. 

"Mmm..." Lance hummed against JC's mouth. "Who's at the door?" 

JC smiled. "Dunno. Maybe if we just ignore them they'll go away." He kissed Lance back, flicking his tongue out against Lance's lips, teasing. 

They'd been in bed for hours, most of the afternoon and into the evening. It was like the outside world had ceased to exist for them, just for that day, and they'd happily ignored the telephone when it rang. 

But this doorbell... it was getting insistent. JC groaned and started to sit up. Lance's arm tightened around him, warm lips trailing down his jaw to his throat. "I didn't say you could get up," buzzed against sensitive skin, and JC shivered, tilting his head back to give Lance better access. 

The chime rang again downstairs, and was then joined by thumping. "Oh, for heaven's sake," JC said. As the remnants of sleep cleared from his brain, he realized that the chances of this being a very persistent Mormon missionary were pretty slim. He closed his eyes, groaning. "It's the guys, isn't it? It's gotta be the guys." 

He felt Lance's body sag in agreement. "Shit. Your party. I was supposed to--I promised I'd get you over to Joey's by--" He turned on his side, presumably looking at the clock. "Shit. An hour and a half ago." 

JC sighed, resignedly sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp, looking around for his pants. Lance started to do the same, and JC turned to him and kissed him. "No, stay here." He felt his smile threaten to split his face in two. "I'll get rid of them. You're the only party I want tonight. If that disappoints Justin, well, he'll just have to live with it." 

That kiss led to another, but JC really was about to get up and pull his jeans on when he heard voices from downstairs. _Inside_ the house. Familiar voices, but loud. Urgent. 

"Hurry--" Chris. "I've been trying to call him for hours, no answer--" 

"He was really upset," Justin, "I don't think--I mean, JC wouldn't--he wouldn't, like, _intentionally_ \--" 

"Nobody downstairs." Joey. "The bedrooms are upstairs. Here, I'll show you." 

Show you? Show who? Rapid feet on the stairs, and--oh, shit--the crackle of a two-way radio, voices distorted, but it sounded like some kind of official-- 

JC bolted across the room and shut the bedroom door, locked it. Turning to lean back against the door, he saw Lance sitting up in bed, eyes wide. "They wouldn't have... called the cops," JC said, trying to convince himself. "Would they?" 

Heavy feet in the hallway, doors opening, voices calling out "No," "Not here," and then the bedroom door rattled in its hinges as a fist pounded on the other side. JC jumped away from it. 

"Anyone in there? Mr. Chasez?" JC and Lance looked helplessly at each other. 

Justin's voice, again. "He's gotta be in there. Please--hurry--I mean, I don't think, but--" He sounded terrified. 

JC cleared his throat. "Justin? I'm fine--" 

The commotion outside the door didn't even pause, voices talking over one another, more squawks from a radio. 

"Shit," Lance said. "They're making so much noise, they probably can't hear..." 

JC felt his face go scarlet, but he gritted his teeth, grabbing his jeans and trying to hop his way into them and back over to the door at the same time. Another _thud_ on the door--shit, that wasn't a fist, that was a kick, it wouldn't take much of that to tear the doorjamb out; he didn't have time to put on a shirt or even zip up all the way-- 

JC turned and saw Lance tugging his own pants on as JC turned the knob, trying to open the door just a crack, but as he released the catch it flew back, barely missing him as a strong foot propelled it backwards, and then bodies were spilling into the room, and lights were flashing. 

"Hey, no pictures!" Joey was yelling as the door slammed back against the bedroom wall and flash bulbs kept going off. _Johnny's going to kill us_ , JC thought, hearing the familiar click and whirr of professional cameras. How did--who did--He couldn't see, spots dancing in front of his eyes, but as he blinked, imagining tabloid headlines, he thought, _Flash bulbs? Since when do emergency workers take pictures?_

And then he heard it. The high wheeze that said Chris was laughing too hard to breathe. JC knuckled his eyes hard, and squinted, and... 

No police. No EMTs. 

Joey was standing to the side of the door, shaking his head, grinning like an idiot. Justin had crumpled to the floor, laughing like a similar idiot, a walkie-talkie at his side. And Chris--Chris was still holding a camera in each hand, and leaning against the wall to hold himself up. "Surprise!" he gasped, choking with laughter, when JC caught his eye. "Since you couldn't be bothered to come to your party, we brought the party to you!" 

JC stared at the three of them, blinking slowly, trying to process the fact that his career _hadn't_ just taken a very abrupt left turn. Shit, his heart was beating like a jackhammer. "You mean, this is..." he began. 

"Yeah, happy birthday, man!" Joey beamed, holding his arms out for a hug and reaching for JC, then backpedaling just before they made contact. "Um," he said, gesturing, and JC looked down to see that Lance apparently hadn't licked him quite as clean as he'd thought. JC felt himself blushing but just shrugged, tugging his pants the rest of the way up as his only concession to modesty. He hadn't invited them in, after all, and besides, his knees were still a little shaky from the shock. Joey chuckled, and settled for patting JC on the shoulder with extra enthusiasm. 

"This is... a joke," JC finally managed, shaking his head. Then he felt a solid warmth behind him, and his body calmed. _Lance._

Justin looked up at JC and tried to speak through his giggles. "Man, we had you so good! We _totally_ had you!" He closed his eyes and flopped back down on his back, laughing, "God, Jayce, your face! Your _face_!" 

Chris held up his cameras, still hiccupping with laughter, "Don't worry, guys, you'll get a chance to see your faces as soon as we get these pictures developed..." 

Justin sat up again, unwilling to miss a minute of his triumph. "That's not all you might get a chance to see," he mugged, eyebrows waggling lecherously. Then his eyes fell on the pillow on the floor by the bed, and his demeanor cracked a little. "Oh, jeez, JC, gross!" 

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," Lance shot back, arms coming around JC's waist, warm, naked chest pressing against him. Lance rested his chin on JC's shoulder, and JC felt Lance's smile against the side of his face. JC grinned and leaned into Lance's touch. 

"You guys set all this up?" JC shook his head, still seeing spots when he blinked. He gestured at the cameras, the walkie-talkies. "Didn't you have any better way to spend your evening?" 

Chris looked incredulous. "You didn't actually think you could get away with that trick you guys played on tour, did you? Admit it, JC, you are dealing with a _master_!" 

"Hey!" Justin protested, accepting a hand from Joey to get back on his feet. 

"Okay, okay, _masters_ ," Chris conceded before turning back to JC. "But let this be a lesson to you, Jayce. You should never try to prank us!" 

JC pulled Lance's arms tighter around his own body. "God, you guys are such dorks. And you," he said, turning to Joey. "I expect shit like this from them, but you?" 

Joey grinned at him. "Sorry, man. But hey, who didn't let me in on the joke in the first place, huh? Besides," his eyes flicked to Lance, " _someone_ hurled all over the side of my car last night. My _freshly washed_ car." 

"Sorry, Joe." Lance's voice was soft, honest. "But, y'know, I think I can remember cleaning up after you a time or two..." 

JC laughed, suddenly happy through and through. Lance behind him, loving him the way he'd been aching for; his best friends all around--how could he not be happy? "Fine. Fine, everybody, we're all even, it's all good. And thanks for the birthday party. I'm sorry I didn't make it." He couldn't stop himself from turning his head and nuzzling Lance's cheek. "But not _real_ sorry," he murmured. 

Chris cleared his throat. "All I want is for you to admit defeat. Then I'll wish you a happy birthday, C." Justin nodded and looked at JC expectantly. Joey just stood watching. 

"Sure, guys, you win," Lance drawled over JC's shoulder. JC tried not to snicker at the innocent tone of Lance's voice. "Y'all are _obviously_ so much better at jokes than we are. You win. There's no way we could ever get you better than you got us." 

Chris beamed, obviously about to start crowing. "Oh, _yes_..." 

Then Chris's voice trailed off as Lance slowly slid his fingers down into the front of JC's jeans, a couple of inches past the waist. Chris and Justin glanced at each other nervously. 

Joey laughed, pointing at Chris. "See, man, I told you! You might have won this time, but they're catching on. You're gonna be _so_ sorry you ever started teasing them!" 

JC grinned at Chris's crestfallen look. "Don't mind him, Chris. You know we could never hope to measure up to you and Justin _that_ way." Then he wiggled his hips, letting Lance's hands slip a little farther down the front of his pants, giggling when Justin and Chris flinched, both coughing at the same time in an unsuccessful attempt to cover their reactions. Turning his head, JC met Lance's lips and kissed him deeply. They smiled at each other as they pulled apart. 

When JC looked back at the others, Chris was blushing. Justin was standing with his mouth open, and his breathing seemed a little heavy. Joey just winked at JC. 

Lance was the first to speak. "Now could you peckerheads please _get out_ and let me finish giving JC his birthday present? His _real_ birthday present?" 

Chris recovered quickly. "Hey, I spent good money on these cameras--" 

"Fine," Lance said, "you can leave 'em. I'm sure we can find something to do with them." His fingers cupped JC and squeezed gently, and JC arched back, rubbing against him. 

"Okay," Joey chuckled, "I think I've seen enough. Happy birthday, Jayce. I'm really glad everything worked out. I bet Lance's liver is, too." He put an arm around Justin, turning him toward the door. "C'mon, Curly. Without these two jokers around, we can watch _straight_ porn." 

For a minute JC thought Chris was going to leave without a parting shot--which would've been both nice and a bit disturbing. But although the cameras got placed carefully on top of the dresser, Chris did turn back on his way to the hall. He grinned, winked innocently, and started singing. "There's a party in my pants and I want you all to come..." 

JC couldn't have kept from laughing if he'd tried. But he _really_ lost it when Lance just nodded and countered with, "I love myself, I want you to love me..." 

Chris was out the door long before Lance got to the chorus. "Lock the door behind you!" JC yelled down the stairs after him. He turned to Lance, still laughing. "Freaks," he said. 

Lance nodded. "They're great, aren't they?" He started singing again, grinning even wider when his falsetto cracked, and tugged JC back toward the bed. 

[end]

 


End file.
